Something Innocent
by Gabi217
Summary: Summary Inside, on Chap 3! Draco & Ginny for sure...some romance, fighting, rated R FOR REASON, COMPLETED!
1. Default Chapter

**__**

:Title: Something Innocent

**__**

:Author: Gabrielle Howell a.k.a Gabi217

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:Summary: Once more, a Draco/Ginny fic. More summary later, lol.

****

:Disclaimer: I hereby announce, for all of this story, that I own nothing; J.K. Rowling owns it all. I only own my huge, not-quite-figured-out-yet-plot, of which you could trip on if it was in front of you. :D have a lovely day. 

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Chapter One: Falling Again

Her head was pounding; her heart was thumping. She suddenly felt like some gigantic drum; being played out until the world was fading. And yet she clutched the stone railing tighter and tighter, and numbly descended down the staircase; step by agonizing step. She sucked in a deep breath, filling her lungs with castle-dried air, and schooled her gorgeous face into a striking smile. She straightened her back, tucked a few strands of straight red Weasley hair behind her ears, and blinked. She exhaled slowly as she took those 6 last steps and pushed open the doors, living up to her new title this year.

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Gryffindor Beauty.

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He didn't say anything. He knew much better than that, and pressed all the pressure that he was sure he'd get laid on him this year to the back of his mind. He swallowed the block in the back of his throat and smirked, opening his eyes to accept whatever looks were carelessly thrown at him. _Hell, _he thought, _I don't really care, as long as they look at me. _He stiffened his shoulders as Crabbe and Goyle pulled open the heavy oak doors, and, expecting to find a small crowd gathered at his feet, he didn't see them. He only saw one thing. One meaningful thing. 

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Her Red Hair. 

But, being a Malfoy, he gasped. The Gryffindor Beauty, standing across the hall from him, was staring him in the eye. He took about 4 steps toward her, as she did the same, and they loosely linked arms. 

"'Morning, Weasley."

Forgetting that the man beside her was her enemy, she said, "Please, I'm Ginny."

She turned her head in a swift movement, shifting some of her silky red hair.

"Oh, I mean, 'morning Malfoy."

She narrowed her eyes, staring intently at the Great Hall doors.

"So. What're you?" Ginny asked.  


"Excuse me?" Malfoy replied, a blonde eyebrow raised. 

"I mean," she talked with her hands, he noticed. He liked that in a woman, "what did your house name you?"

"Oh." He murmured, thinking, trying to remember. "Slytherin Prince."

"Prince?" she asked, choking back a brief giggle. 

"Laugh all you want, Weasley, but I'm rather Princely, in case you haven't noticed."

Silence.

"So, what did they name you, then?" he asked, trying to break the quiet.

"Gryffindor Beauty," she whispered, sighing inwardly. 

Before realizing what he was doing, he mocked her humorousness by giving a slight chuckle.

"What's funny, Malfoy?"

"Gryffindor _Beauty_?" he scoffed.

"Yes," she answered in a strong tone, and began to mock him also. "Laugh all you want, Malfoy, but I'm rather Beautiful, incase you haven't noticed."

He smiled. "You do a rather damn good job as an impersonator, did you know that?"

"As much as I'd like to admit, I shouldn't. Because if I agreed with your," she cleared her throat, "_comment,_ Hell would most likely freeze over."

She gave him one more brief smile before pulling her arm away and strutting over to her house table. But before she sat down, she nodded at him. He nodded back; the deal was struck. 

She would stay out of his way if he'd stay out of hers; and if they could do that, they were friends.

Crabbe smacked the frozen blonde in the shoulder.

"'Not polite to stare, Malfoy." he smirked, glancing in the direction of which he was. "Especially at _'er_." 

"Who in bloody hell said I was staring? I was _glaring,_ not _staring. _Who made her Gryffinndor Beauty, anyway? _Pansy_ looks better than _her_." he said, immediately withdrawing the comment in his mind. Pansy didn't look anything as good as she did. In fact, Parkinson herself probably heard him. He sighed as her high pitched gasp rose into the crowded air.

"What did you say, Dracums?" she squealed, shoving through the gathering crowd. 

He spun around.

"Nothing, you ugly spineless bitch," he said, with complete assurance.

Her blinding face fell. Her smeared blue eye shadow that rose up to her eyebrows seemed to change color as she stepped back in the crowd. Everyone was silent as he stepped over the threshold, taking up his seat at the head of the table. 

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Some pretty girl with brown curls sat across from him at supper. He smiled. Pearly white teeth smiled back. He twinged as a tiny mock-prophecy flashed in his head. Shiny white pointy teeth, biting him to death. He mentally shuddered and smiled falsely again. She tried to be conversant.

"I'm Amelia." she said, pushing her bracelet-ed hand across the smooth table. But he was looking elsewhere, like toward a lovely laughing redhead. 

"Hello?" she giggled, waving her slim, tan fingers in front of his zoned-out eyes. He was snatched back to reality, having taken a trip to NeverEverLand, where wishes were dreamt up but would never happen.

"Hmm?" he mumbled, averting his gaze back to the curly-haired brunette fluttering her hand in front of his iced-over silver eyes. 

"I'm Amy," she repeated, holding out her hand. He accidentally caught the wandering gaze of the fiery redhead, and brought the brunette's lingering hand to his pale, soft lips. 

"Draco," he returned, "delighted to meet such a lovely looking girl like you."

He cast a glance over at Gryffindor's Table again, catching a jealous and slightly angry Virginia Weasley turn away in pure dislike. It _had_ worked. The girl was envious of this 'Amy'. He mentally clapped himself on the shoulder.

"So, Amy, where are you from?" he asked, wanting to know this girl suddenly. 

She blushed at him kissing her tainted hand and smiled again, pushing the curly brown locks out of her smooth-apple-green eyes. 

"I transferred from Beauxbatons, in France," she said. He nodded, tilting his head to the side in an oddly adorable way, flipping his hair over, feigning innocence. He smiled once more.

"France is lovely this time of year! What changed your mind about transferring to Hogwarts?" he asked, curious.

She suddenly squirmed, her smile fading. From his point of view, the girl became uncomfortable with this strange change of subject. 

"Uhm, family reasons. Yes. My family decided to, uhhh…" she trailed off, paused, and continued, "…transfer me, because they, uhhh…didn't like my…uhhh…old school, I suppose."

He nodded, his short attention span wearing down. He ran a slim hand through his silky blonde hair, and sighed, nodding again, taking a sneaky glance at Gryffindor's newest Beauty.

"Well, that's lovely, I suppose," he said, standing up, snatching her hand and bringing it once again to his lips, gaining her another blush and him an angry look from Ginny. 

"I must go, but I'll see you around I guess. Good evening, uhhh…Amy! Sweet dreams!" he said, taking off at a fast pace to a now-leaving and particularly angry Ginny. 

"Ginny!" he greeted her, finding her long fast strides simply irresistible all of a sudden. 

"Draco," she ground out. 

"How are you this evening? Full?" he said, now trying to be conversant with her.

"Yes, I'm just stuffed I suppose. On my way to unpack my things. Oh, by the way, lovely girlfriend you have there. Quite pretty. I bet she wouldn't even pass the magically stupid test. You must be proud," she said, her voice oozing sarcasm and abhorrence. 

"Ah, yes. So you've seen Amy, now haven't you? She is a beauty, I must say. But, if I do say so, she isn't my girlfriend." he explained.

"Oh?" she asked, slowing down so he could catch his breath. "By the way you were making eyes at her, I wouldn't have even doubted it."

He rolled his eyes. "Well, I wasn't the only one who was 'making eyes'," he argued. 

"Oh, yes, glancing occasionally at a Slytherin is now classified as 'making eyes'. How honestly pathetic," she retorted. 

He stiffened his back. "Just because your Gryffindor Beauty this year does NOT make you Queen," he sneered.

She stopped her walking, as did he. They stood face to face in the middle of a desolate hallway, out of earshot and view of the Great Hall. She suddenly aware that it was quite breezy, and the way Lavender Brown had left several buttons open at the top of her white shirt made her shiver. 

"Who said I even wanted to be Beauty this year? I would much rather have stayed in my dorm all semester reading books on how to bewitch rejects like you, you flirtatious bastard," she hurried, gasping for breath suddenly. 

His icy eyes glared into her soft coffee colored ones. He suddenly stepped closer to her, pressing her against the wall. 

"Ginny, darling, you don't even know the beginning of me," he whispered, trailing a finger along her quivering jaw line. 

She smirked. "Nor would I ever want to," she whispered back, pride over gleaming fear in her chocolate eyes.

His right hand, upon a reflex, flew and quickly landed itself on one side of her head, mere centimeters from her narrowed eyes. His pale fingers of his left hand ran along her cheek, touching her softly, gently, as if he could break her.

"You know you find me irresistible, Virginia," he murmured, and she was once again quite aware of her surroundings, and his warm breath on her cheek. _Oh damn, _she thought, _is he really that close? _

"No, I'm sorry, I don't," she sighed, knowing that she was, somewhere, on the inside. Once again, she was conscious of him being a few inches away, and increasing. He took another tiny step, and there he was; pressed against her. She was pressed into the wall, and as she glanced at his pale pink lips, her eyes stopped shining as she thought hard, trying to keep her derogatory comments on his life in her head. _He has beautiful lips,_ she thought again, shutting her eyes tight as he leaned in for the kiss, and she turned her head. His lips met her neck instead, and as he opened his eyes in surprise, not lifting his mouth from her flesh, he grinned. He kissed her neck slowly, trailing his tongue along her veins as her heart began to 

beat faster and faster. "Draco, stop," she whispered, her hands clutching the stone wall behind her. "Stop it!" she cried very softly. 

He only moaned slightly inaudibly and continued, one hand snaking his way down to the hem of her vest and white shirt, the other bracing him against the wall. But just as his hand began to climb the small height from her waist to one of her round breasts, she grabbed his hand.

"This has gone quite far enough," she murmured into his ear, kneeing him in the groin. He doubled over, helpless, as she stepped sideways, rubbing her throbbing neck with a quavering hand. 

"When I say stop, I mean STOP, Draco," she whispered, and with one last lingering glance, she stepped to the side of the groaning Draco Malfoy and continued down the hall at a slight run, fear bubbling in her eyes and a small red mark on her neck. But back in the hallway, a doubled over Draco Malfoy was smirking through his stiff mask of pain. 


	2. Chapter Two

**__**

:Title: Something Innocent

**__**

:Author: Gabrielle Howell a.k.a Gabi217

****

:Summary: Once more, a Draco/Ginny fic. More summary later, lol.

****

:Disclaimer: I hereby announce, for all of this story, that I own nothing; J.K. Rowling owns it all. I only own my huge, not-quite-figured-out-yet-plot, of which you could trip on if it was in front of you. :D have a lovely day. 

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Chapter Two: Nothing's Ever Right

She got into her room and closed the door. Her eyes shut, her head growing warm. There was a throbbing in her neck and a quivering of her stomach muscles; she thought the reasons over and a scary thought occurred. Her libido was going insane. Nobody could ever set off her attraction alarms, could they? She didn't need guys. She didn't need any type of male opposites. She just needed herself. And damnit, if she couldn't live without them, then she'd leave. She'd go as far away as possible.

There was a tiny tick in her chest. It sounded a lot like a pocket watch enveloped in cotton, and then she knew right away what it was.

It was her heart. It was beating beating beating like a hummingbird's wings. And as she slowed her breathing and sucked in a longer breath, she just forgot all about it. She needed to apologize for some reason, and she couldn't know why. She tapped her fingers on her porcelain sink as she slipped out of her skirt, tapping the tub faucet and watched the cold water flow out into it's depths. She pulled her hair back, wrapping it up in a bun, and slipped into the water, resting her chin at the surface. As she scrubbed her invaded body, she wondered what he was thinking.

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He'd slipped quietly into his room, at ten, and immediately scrambled over to the miniature ice box underneath his bedside table. He stamped the floor two times with his left foot, and one with his right. The box popped up with the sound of clinking glass bottles, but he wasn't after that. He reached behind the bottles and into the ice cabinet, grabbing a large handful and wrapping it in his handkerchief. He gently but slowly sat himself upon his giant silk green and silver bed, drawing the curtains quietly behind him. He propped himself upon his pillows and gently unzipped his pants, placing the chunk of ice on his throbbing, pained piece. He sighed a large sigh of relief and eased himself further up the pillows, letting the ice fall inside the cloth to his other painful pieces. With his right hand, he held the kerchief in place, and with his left, he softly stroked the platinum blonde hair out of his eyes, that seemed to have shaken itself back onto his forehead and in the way of his vision. But his peripheral vision wasn't what it was distracting. In his mind, he was slowly, slowly, s l o w l y replaying his evening in his head. Ginny's red, fiery, soft curls, Amy's brown spiral inviting ones. Ginny's soft, icy cool, pale, skin, Amy's warm, attractive, tan flesh. He sighed at the two of them as he compared the images in his mind. Why, their eyes had the same look in them: a sparkle of mischief here or there, a lie lying underneath, but happiness and pain blooming in the center.

He ran his hand through the air, as if touching the cheek of the Matchstick. He closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath, wondering what life was like for her. He wanted her, _needed_ her. But she wouldn't ever speak to him, after that. Perhaps they were still friends, he thought. But he rolled over and shifted the ice over his manhood, relaxing, and preparing for a comfortable sleep. 

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Perhaps jealousy will set her straight, he thought, ideas popping into his head as he rolled over and snored in a large gulp of air. _Tomorrow will be a long day,_ he thought, drifting away into Sleep Land.

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When she'd gotten out of the shower, the air seemed strangely cold inside her bathroom. It felt different than the steam that usually filled the porcelain chamber. The water glistened across her chest and shoulders like a silk cloth was draped somewhat appealingly across her upper body. She pulled her soft cloth towel around herself tighter, and slipped her feet into a pair of fuzzy red slippers. She opened the bathroom door, poked her head out into her room, to make sure no one had entered unnoticed, and proceeded out to her bedroom. She opened her trunk, gathering her bathrobe which she'd some how forgotten to remove from it, and slipped her arms through the arm holes, tying it tightly around her waist. She dropped the towel from around her middle and dressed into her underclothes quietly, still in her bathrobe. She sat at her vanity, brushing her soft red hair, and then parted it. She twisted them up into two large braids, that dangled at her shoulders. Slipping away from her vanity seat, she dressed quietly in a night gown, and pulled her bathrobe back on. Pushing her door open, she set out through the hallways to apologize in person. 

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His eyes snapped open as he pulled the warm soaked cloth out of his pants and rubbed his limp friend, sighing as he pushed back the curtains and set his feet on the floor. As he changed his pants, he wondered who was in the Common Room at this time of night. He slipped on a T-Shirt and some soft green pajama pants, running his fingers through his lengthy platinum hair. Checking his reflection, he pulled open the door, slipping on some silver house shoes as he left. 

He stood at the balcony that overlooked the lounge-y area, and did a double take to find a dozing Amelia Crosscut snuggled in the corner of his favorite armchair. He descended slowly, careful not to wake her, as they were the only two still lingering in the room. When he came to the landing, he brushed down his clothes and stepped forward, snapping softly to make the fire brighter and warmer. As he approached the couch, she moved, opening her green eyes. She looked up at him, a hunger remaining in those Granny-Smith eyes of hers, and grabbed his shirt. 

She pulled him down on top of her, meeting his groaning mouth with hers. His tongue darted into her mouth, and was delighted to find she had a sweet, buttery taste to her tongue. After playing around for awhile, she shifted their position, pushing him backwards on the couch and placing herself stretched out on top of him. His roaming hands found the hem of her small T-Shirt, and as one of them ran its fingers through her curly messed hair, his hand shifted upwards and began to kneed one of her C-cup size breasts. He moaned into her mouth, pushing her backwards onto her side of the couch again, one of his hands now grabbing her butt. She removed his shirt with one quick movement, her tiny fingers roaming over his muscular chest. But as he began to pull on the hem of hers, a password was whispered and into the Common Room stepped a very profound Virginia Weasley, anger and abhorrence slipping in and out of her eyes. He immediately pulled away, reaching for his shirt as she looked at him with pure anger, but as he stared closely he saw sadness drifting in around there somewhere. She blinked, once, twice, and then moved toward the door, gathering her bathrobe in one of her frail hands. Without one last lingering glance at a confused Amy, he darted after her, seeking forgiveness. 

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	3. Chapter Three

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:Title: Something Innocent

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:Author: Gabrielle Howell a.k.a Gabi217

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:Summary: Once more, a Draco/Ginny fic. Ginny's going through some weird times at home, but she won't/can't tell anyone about them. While away at school, she develops a new habit from some of the bad-boys at school: Cutting. But upon seeing a certain sight she wishes to forget, she gets back at Draco and herself with numerous 'slicings' and an outrageous game of Jealousy in all four corners. Draco, on the other hand, has found another way of self-mutalization: drugs. Who but their best friends can find the answers to this silly pastime? What will happen when the results come out the ones that everyone wanted? Will Gryffindor's Beauty and Slytherin's Prince become the Happy People they want to be? 

:Disclaimer: I hereby announce, for all of this story, that I own nothing; J.K. Rowling owns it all. I only own my huge, ALMOST-figured-out-plot, of which you might trip on if it was in front of you. :D have a lovely day. 

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Chapter Three: Agreements and Old Friends

She finally got to the point where, hell, she didn't even fucking care anymore. She was only at the place where she had a sudden itch to slap that straight-toothed smile off that stupid ugly girl. She did a mental double-take. 

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Well, she thought, _I guess I can't call her ugly. I can only call her stupid, and French, and all those other names that sound retarded….(A/N: no offense to anyone)_

She shrugged it all off as she ran down the hallway at wind speed, oblivious to the echoing fast-paced footsteps slowly hurrying up to where she was. Inside her bathrobe pocket she grabbed her wand, quickening her pace as she turned the corners of the hallway and set off at a sound-barrier breaking run, grateful for all of her Muggle exercising. She flew down the last two hallways and jerked around another corner, forcing "_Bellilacto_" out before the portrait of the Fat Lady jerked awake from her snooze and flew open, closing quickly behind her to hold out the stalking intruder, smacking her promptly in the butt. She jerked forward and heaved out a quick sigh of relief. Across the Common Room a snore was broken as a black-haired person jolted themselves from sleep also, eyes wide open.

"_Ginny!"_ she whispered urgently, fanning her hand in a notion to get the red-head to come over to her.

"_Ginny!_ Come here! Where have you _been_?"

Ginny walked over and stood before the ebony-headed person, quirking an eyebrow.

"Out," she murmured, shifting her eyes. "Nikai, what's so important?"

Her best friend since 2nd year, Nikai Gabbriellini, rolled her eyes and jerked her bathrobe to pull her down, close enough until they were nose to nose.

"_Blaise Zabini is in **your** room!"_ she whispered urgently. 

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(A/N: Someone PLEASE tell me if it's spelled 'Zabini' or 'Zambini'. I was pretty sure it was the first, not the latter, until I read some stories where it was spelled with an 'm'…please tell me!)

Ginny's eyes widened uncontrollably. The small scene of her catching Draco and that French girl in the Slytherin Common Room snogging was enough to make her hurl, but she was still green with envy. 

"Oh, he is, now, is he?" she asked, eccentrically raising another red eyebrow.

Nikai leaned back and gave her friend a skeptical look, almost afraid of the gleam of mischief in her eye. 

But in Ginny's head, she had other things in mind. Like if she'd left her bathroom door unlocked, if he could see the contents at her windowsill, if he'd seen the razor lying haphazardly on her sink, still stained with her blood. She shuddered and reappeared in Reality, looking strangely at Nikai. 

"What's he doing?" she whispered, moving to sprint up the stairs to her private dorm, not even waiting for an answer. 

She came up to her thick mahogany door, and pressed her ear against it. She heard shuffling around inside, and then the other person froze. She sucked in a deep breath and quickly pushed the door open, startling the person on the other side. 

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Blaise stood stone-still as he watched a slightly off-guard, slightly perturbed Virginia Weasley, who was frantically stumbling to keep her balance seeing as she was on her toes. 

He was standing in her bathroom, the blunt end of a small yet bloody razor in between his index and middle fingers. The room heavily yet flippantly smelled of her perfume, and makeup and soaps and bottles lie evenly discarded around her beauty product-cluttered bathroom. She snatched the razor out of his fingers and clutched it against her palm, cutting the soft skin there. Her eyes narrowed as she eased her grip and stepped back, watching this slightly handsome boy who had let himself into _her room_ with_out_ her permission. Her chocolate eyes narrowed as she gave him a clueless look, and he straightened his posture as he smiled a glorious smile.

"Blaise Zabini," he said, stretching his hand out and presenting it for her to shake.

She swatted it away instead, like an insect was hovering there. In a sense, there was.

"I _know_ who you _are_, but the correct thing for me to wonder, is, what are you doing in _my room? _A _Gryffindor_ girl's **_private_** room?!"

He stretched his eyebrows with pleasure and shrugged, relaxing. 

"What, Blaise, none of this, a ringin' a bell?" she shrieked, anger bubbling around her diaphragm, making it clearly impossible for her to get a full breath. 

"If you _must_ know, Weasley, I saw you sprinting down the hallway. And then, I saw Draco running behind you. But before all _that,_ I saw a very…erm...unpleasant sight in our Common Room."

"'Ours' as in whos?" she asked, being completely stupid.

He rolled his eyes. "The _Slytherins_. You Gryffies are two Popsicles short of an ice cream truck, if you know what I mean." he grinned, elbowing her stiff side. 

She nodded, returning from her stupefied thoughts.

"So, what do you want, Blaise?" she asked, starting to get annoyed. 

He shifted his weight to the other foot. "Well, you know that girl he was snogging today?" he asked, eyebrows knit together.

"Yes. What about her? She's a mean ol' coot, I'll give 'er that," she grumbled.

"Ah. So you DO have a thing for Draco. Well, this'll help both of us." he said, tossing her a wink. 

She rolled her eyes. "Get on with it then, Zabini." she sighed, growing impatient every second. 

"Well, anyways, that girl. Her name's Amelia, or Amy, Crosscut, and she's my cousin's best friend." he said, rambling. 

"Get ON with it!" she yelped.

"Well, truth be told, I'm supposedly betrothed to the poor girl. But Draco being himself and all, he found her first. Or, I suppose, she found HIM. Either way, my heart's set for her and Draco done come along and stole her…but he fancies _you_ all the same."

He took a breath, Ginny hanging on his words. 

"Well, see, if _you're_ what _Draco's_ after, and _she's_ what _I'm_ after, maybe if I pretend to date _you_ he'll get jealous. You see?"

She nodded, still feeling numb from the fact that he was in her room, going through her things, _snooping through her secrets_. 

"So, from now on until something else happens, we're dating, ok Ginny?"

She snapped out of her reverie and looked up at him. In a certain light, he didn't look too many shades short of handsome. "Ok," she shrugged, and flipped the razor around in her hand. 

"So, uh, you wanna tell me about that razor, Gin?"

She looked up at him, casting a steely glance. 

"No."

His fingers brushed her shoulder in a sympathetic gesture.

"You sure?"

"Very much so," she replied, casting her glance to the floor.

"'K then, I'll let myself out. Be standing by your house portrait at 7 tomorrow morning, ok? Don't be late, I got my consequences."

He grinned, winked, and tapped her shoulder once more, before letting himself out her door. She set the bloody razor back on the sink's edge, cleaning out her bleeding palm. As she was drying her sliced hand, a knock sounded her door but was discontinued, seeing as the person had entered her room. Or persons, as it seemed. She threw the towel down, mumbling something about "no respect of privacy" and pulled open the bathroom door. A black-haired person and two alike-looking brunettes stood in the tiny lounge of her bedroom. 

"Hell, Nikai! Knock louder and WAIT next time!"

She stood there, hands on hips, anger folding in the wrinkles on her forehead but a brief tease of smile lingering on her lips. 

"Oh, Ginny!" two voices said in unison, turning to her and smiling brightly, straight white teeth grinning beyond space. 

"Oi! Dorcas, Donata! It's so good to see the two of you!" she nearly shrieked, engulfing the twins into a giant hug. 

Dorcas and Donata Gabbriellini were Nikai's sisters, a set of 7th year Gryffindor twin brunettes, and Fred and George's ex-girlfriends. 

"Ginny! Oi, Ginny you look fantastic!" Dorcas quietly shrieked, tossing a flock of brown curls over her left shoulder. 

"Yes, Gin, you look wonderful!" Donata agreed, flicking a group of curls over her right. 

Ginny nodded and stood back, admiring the girls she felt she hadn't seen in a year. 

"Dorcas, your eyes! They're so…green!" she commented, as Dorcas shrugged one shoulder and tilted her head in the opposite direction. 

"Mother said it's because of the carrot's she's been eating. _But_," Donata said, glancing at her sister, "cucumbers give you _much _better lips." she finished, tilting her head up triumphantly and puckering her lips.

"I thought you'd say hips," Ginny laughed, poking Donata's flesh with a taunt.

  
"Oh? And I thought maybe it was all that chocolate you've devoured, that went to your thighs," Dorcas teased.

" 'A moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips!' " Nikai quoted, laughing. 

Ginny giggled madly again, and then sighed, chatting quietly with the girls she felt she'd grown up with. She breathed normally, in and out, all thoughts of Draco and nasty Slytherin girls and Blaise exiting her head in a brief giggle. She sighed once more, resting her arms on her knees as she collapsed to the floor, spending the entire night giggling, joking, and teasing the night away with the 3 people she loved the most. 


	4. Chapter Four

**__**

:Title: Something Innocent

**__**

:Author: Gabrielle Howell a.k.a Gabi217

****

:Summary: Once more, a Draco/Ginny fic. Ginny's going through some weird times at home, but she won't/can't tell anyone about them. While away at school, she develops a new habit from some of the bad-boys at school: Cutting. But upon seeing a certain sight she wishes to forget, she gets back at Draco and herself with numerous 'slicings' and an outrageous game of Jealousy in all four corners. Draco, on the other hand, has found another way of self-mutalization: drugs. Who but their best friends can find the answers to this silly pastime? What will happen when the results come out the ones that everyone wanted? Will Gryffindor's Beauty and Slytherin's Prince become the Happy People they want to be? 

:Disclaimer: I hereby announce, for all of this story, that I own nothing; J.K. Rowling owns it all. I only own my huge, ALMOST-figured-out-plot, of which you might trip on if it was in front of you. :D have a lovely day. 

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Chapter Four: Jealousy and Questioning Eyes

Morning came entirely too soon. When it did, though, she woke with a rumbling stomach and aching eyes. She'd woken to a pain in her wrist and sun shining through her eyelids, giggling and snorts of laughter hovering above her head. 

She roused to find herself hanging halfway off her bed, her feet almost touching the floor. She was flopped about deliberately by 6 knees, all of which were surrounding her fiery head. More giggles sounded as she opened her chocolate eyes, as if expecting some kind of peaceful atmosphere. Ohh, was she wrong. 

Above her she immediately focused in two identical brunette's, and an ebony headed woman who were poking her stomach and giggling. 

"Hello….Gin….wake up…." Nikai whispered, stroking her forehead. 

A door burst open and slammed against the wall. 

"OI! GIN-NAI! WAKE UP!" it yelled, flinging sound across the room. Her eyes snapped open, penetrated by this noise, and her body involuntarily flopped up upon reflex and she focused her eyes on her brother's girlfriend. 

"Goddamnit Hermione! Can't you just smack me in the head?!" she shrieked, and turned her head to look at the alarm clock. 

Her mouth fell open in shock as she scrambled to get off the bed, flinging covers and pushing girls in every which way. She ran into her bathroom to look at the clock in there: 6:47. 

"DAMNIT!" she yelled, slamming the door and stripping of her clothes. She jumped in the shower, hastily washing her hair and scrubbing her pale skin. She scrubbed extra hard at the beginning-to-be scars on her wrists, eyes tearing at the pain. She jumped out, setting a quick drying spell on her scarlet curls and a hasty makeup charm on her face and wrists. Flinging clothes in every direction she searched for a clean uniform to wear, throwing shirts and knee-socks and vests everywhere. When she finally found a good one, she pulled it on, buttoning everything hastily and pulling things on wrinkled. She pulled her socks on and snapped on her black Mary Jane's, and pulled her school robes off the hook. Before pulling them on, though, Hermione thoughtfully stopped her. 

"Now, I don't know where you're going, but you're not going _anywhere _as Gryffindor Beauty if you don't let us…" she paused, looking her up and down, "fix you." she said, raising an eyebrow at her wrinkled, mis-buttoned self. She glanced at the clock. 6:55. She sighed. 

"Hurry up, but make sure I look nice, and let me leave before 7!" she yelped, before being pulled into the bathroom by 3 brunettes and a black haired Gryffindor. 

They steamed her down, re-buttoned her, fixed her hair and makeup, adjusted her socks, steamed her robes, and shined her shoes. Hermione stopped, noticing a bit of her makeup spell wearing off her wrist. A blood red part of a line slipped across her pale wrist, the contrasting in colors catching her eye. 

"Ginny, what's this?" she questioned, holding up the stricken girl's wrist. Ginny's face went slack and pale. All the color seemed to drain from everywhere, making her makeup look clownish. She sucked in a deep breath, ripped her wrist away from Hermione's grasp, and stepped out the bathroom door. 

"It's nothing," she said as she pulled her robes over her uniform. "Nothing at all."

As she grabbed her purse she thanked her best friends and her brother's girlfriend, faking a natural grin. She schooled her face into want and sophistication as she stepped through the portrait hole at exactly 7 o'clock. Blaise stood there, speechless, waiting. 

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"You," he said, pointing at her, "are late." he stated, pulling his face into amusement. 

"Am not. It's 7 sharp, just like you said," she argued, sneering, eyebrow raised threateningly. 

"Are too," he bickered. 

"Am _not!_" she shrieked, flipping him in the chest. He laughed and caught her wrist, shaking his head. She heard a high pitched but normal laugh flow down the hallway, followed by a low, natural male laugh. Blaise stiffened. 

"Act with me," he whispered, before pushing her into the wall, lips against hers. 

She sucked in a deep breath through her nose, and wrapped her arms instinctively around his neck, his hands resting on the small of her back and one entwined in her beautiful red hair. She was pressed beneath him, one knee jutting out between his parted ones, her foot against the wall; as he licked her bottom lip, persuading her with his forked-tongue. 

(A/N: It's not really forked, I'm just saying it because he's a Slytherin…lol)

She opened her mouth and closed her eyes, heart pounding and eyelids fluttering as his tongue invaded her orifice, licking the roof of her mouth and making her giggle at the same time. She pushed herself off the wall, pressing them closer, running a hand through his hair. He laughed against her lips and pushed her gently back against the wall, hand tugging her vibrant curls as he jerked her head back, neck inviting his playful tongue to caress her smooth skin. 

(A/N: :Is his hair blonde?: )

While his tongue danced around her virgin flesh she cracked an eye, just in time to watch Draco's face contort in jealousy as he grabbed Amy's hand, pulling her through the hallway. As she opened her eyes fully and grinned, he shot her a hostile glance. She stuck out her tongue like a 3 year old. They rounded the corner. 

"Blaise," she murmured, enveloped in the pleasure his tongue was giving her. "Blaise." she said again. 

"Hmph?" was his response as he continued to taste her sugary-sweet skin. 

"Blaise, they're gone," she whispered, sucking in another breath. 

He moved back from her, her hair a bit messed and his sticking straight up, and as she looked him over she noticed his stiff erection pressing out of his pants. She laughed as she calmed her hair. 

"You'd better calm yourself down, Blaisey, before someone else wants a piece of that!" she laughed, pulling herself together and closing her robes.

He cocked his head to the side and watched her. 

"What?" she questioned, pulling out a mirror. "Is there something on my face?"

He laughed. "No, I was just looking." 

Her eyebrow quirked. He wondered if it did that by itself. "At what?"

"You look so beautiful when you laugh," he said, softly. 

"Was that a comment? From a Slytherin?" she giggled, hiccupping and laughing again. 

He laughed with her. "Actually, yes. I think it was. But it was needed," he added. "I don't just give away nice comments, you know…" 

She nodded and watched as he presented his arm before her. 

"Shall we go to breakfast?" he asked, cocking his head again. 

She looped her arm with his. 

"Wouldn't miss it," she responded. Together, they presented themselves to the school, sucking in deep breaths as they readied each other for the coming glares.

But surprisingly, people didn't hardly notice. Occasionally, someone looked up.

"Fine girl, Blaise," a blonde haired boy piped up, winking. 

"She's a beaut!" (pronounced, 'bute'), a black haired boy pronounced. 

Blaise just grinned and strolled her along, until they came to the tables. She was about to pull away to go greet her fellow Gryffindors, but Blaise's arm jerked her back. 

"What?" she questioned, gesturing at his hand on her arm.

"Sit with me." he commanded. _'There goes that eyebrow again,' _he thought, chuckling to himself. 

"Why should I?"

"Because I said so." 

"And who are you to tell me what to do?"

"Your boyfriend." His voice quavered. 

"Only temporarily," she sneered. 

"Either way, you listen!" he commanded, pulling her away from her friends.

He sat himself down beside Draco, as always, and pulled a faking-happy-Ginny down beside him. He filled his plate with food as always, as if nothing was changing. 

She watched him, as he filled it with foods that ranged from sugar-filled to grease-coated. 

"What are we, the boy who wants to be the first to have a heart attack in his house?" 

"What?" he asked, eyes wide, completely caught off guard. She grabbed his plate, emptying it with a swipe of her wand. 

"Those foods aren't good for you, Blaisey." she smirked, having thought up a new nickname for him. 

He smiled. "Well, good for me or not, I like them, thanks. If you'd be so kind as to just give me my plate back…" he said, reaching over her and grabbing the plate from her held up hands. 

"Let me find you something far more healthy." 

He grimaced. "No way! Give it here, Gin." he ordered, laughter playing over his handsome features. 

"Yes way, or it's no sex for a month," she stated, eyebrow quirked as a smile and a few laughs tugged at her full lips. He smiled, trying to hold it in, but his face went slack. 

"You win," he stated quietly, letting her delicately choose peach slices and bran muffins for his breakfast, tomato juice in his goblet.

"Now, woman, you can't choose a man's drink," he stated, emptying his glass. 

"Who said you're a man, 'Blaisey'?" Draco smirked, leaning over the other side of him to shower Amy with kisses. Blaise rolled his eyes. 

"Who said you're a virgin, Draco?" he laughed, scooting over and nestling his head in between Ginny's neck and hair, opening his mouth and licking her vein. She sucked in a breath. 

Draco laughed, but with sarcasm. 

"Certainly not God, that's for sure," he stated. Blaise leaned over Ginny a bit more, now that he had Draco's full attention, sucking her skin into his mouth gently. 

"God doesn't have the right to choose what I want to be," he said, his voice a bit shocked and seeping with envy. 

"Well-" Blaise was about to come out with another comeback, but Ginny cut him off, eyes closed with pleasure. 

"I think we should, ah, leave the, ah, Great Hall. Breakfast is, ah, getting a tad bit, uhm, overwhelming." she gasped.

He grinned against her neck. "Sure thing, love," he murmured, standing up.

"Well, Draco, Amy, Ginny and I are going to take a trip…elsewhere…, for we're sick of breakfast seeing as it's getting, 'overwhelming'. We'll catch you two soon."  


He said, and with a final trademark grin he pulled Ginny out of the hallway, only to push her up against the wall again once they were outside the door. He led her in between two statues before continuing his game, tugging and licking, nipping at her skin while she gasped away, eyes closed. 

His hand un noticeably slipped up her shirt, stroking the skin of her breast and stomach while the other held the nape of her neck. He trailed his tongue up her jawbone and kissed her breathless, before pulling away, leaving her gasping for air and slinking against the wall. 

"I'm afraid I've got to run, love." he said. "Got some things to do." He winked at her, stood back over her and graced her with a kiss, and then stepped away and turned the corner, disappearing from her view. She sunk down against the stone and turned her head, to catch Draco hurrying out of the Great Doors. 

"What's 'e done to you, Ginny?" he asked, and she closed her eyes to remember that he worried for her. 

"Nothing," she answered. 

"What do you MEAN 'nothing'?" he questioned, 

"Nothing, Draco. That's exactly what I fucking mean. NOTHING!"

She slid herself back up the wall, rubbed her cool pale skin. Tilted her head to the side. 

"What?" she said, tired of those looks. Tired of those questionable eyes, that seemed to say, _I wonder what you're thinking. _

He cocked his head to the side and stared at her. 

"Ginny," he said, stepping closer. 

"What do you want?" she snapped, vaguely aware of his lessening closeness. 

"You know what I want," he sneered, smiling at her. She rolled her eyes.

"No, I don't," she argued, her voice baring down to a whisper. 

"Yes you do. You know you want me, Ginny. You know no one can satisfy you but me. Not even Blaise," he whispered, pushing her back into the wall. Pushing hard on some stone, pushing her back into darkness. 

Yes, his breathing didn't change as his mouth overtook hers, barely giving her time to breathe. She sucked in air from her gasping mouth and met his tongue in a rhythm that ached to be familiar with her. Yet every time she tried to know it, it seemed to change before her, licking and slicing at her glorious muscles until she just let loose. Without taking in her surroundings she was immediately forced into darkness, once again meeting another stone wall. He combed her hair behind her ear as his hands cupped her face before him, holding her trembling body steady. Before she knew it he was moving her, slowly pushing her down the wall. And then another door, and a passage. And then before she knew it, she was lying on his bed. The world spun before her wildly. She tossed and turned and didn't feel anything but his tongue and his movements and everything he did set her libido aflame…and then, and then what. And then, of course, she fainted. 

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YAY!!! Finished chap #..Chap #…grr…Four? Is that it? Four? 


	5. Chapter Five

**__**

:Title: Something Innocent

**__**

:Author: Gabrielle Howell a.k.a Gabi217

****

:Summary: Once more, a Draco/Ginny fic. Ginny's going through some weird times at home, but she won't/can't tell anyone about them. While away at school, she develops a new habit from some of the bad-boys at school: Cutting. But upon seeing a certain sight she wishes to forget, she gets back at Draco and herself with numerous 'slicings' and an outrageous game of Jealousy in all four corners. Draco, on the other hand, has found another way of self-mutalization: drugs. Who but their best friends can find the answers to this silly pastime? What will happen when the results come out the ones that everyone wanted? Will Gryffindor's Beauty and Slytherin's Prince become the Happy People they want to be? 

:Disclaimer: I hereby announce, for all of this story, that I own nothing; J.K. Rowling owns it all. I only own my huge, ALMOST-figured-out-plot, of which you might trip on if it was in front of you. :D have a lovely day. 

__________________________________________________________________

Chapter Five: Blood and Possesion

She heard pacing. She cracked a coffee colored eye and looked around. He was pacing his room in front of her, occasionally looking at her. As soon as she spotted him he walked over, making her quickly shut her eye. He sat down on the space on the bed beside her, thumb on her temple. He rubbed the spot in small circles, before talking to her. 

"Come on, Gin. Wake up; please don't make me get Madame Pomfrey.." 

She gave no response. Her body felt breathless and strength less, like she was walking on air. He spoke again. 

"Gin, can you hear me? Hello? You know, you are one hot chick," he smirked. 

She couldn't help it. A giggle accidentally slipped out of her lips, and her eyes opened to meet silver-gray. She was paralyzed on the spot, staring up into a never ending space. She self-consciously sucked in a breath through her mouth, narrowing her eyes as if to read his thoughts. 

"Draco," she sighed, closing her eyes. Him staring at her like that; piercing her heart like that; it made her weak. 

"Come on, get up," he was suddenly cruel again. Why was he like this?

She sighed again, opened her eyes, moved a little. She slipped off the side of his bed and found her shoes, thinking he probably slipped them off. 

"What time is it?" she felt as if it'd been an eternity, hours and hours since she'd been awake. And indeed it had. 

"It's 3," he sneered, and she laughed as his right nostril flared. 

"What's so damn funny?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow quizzically. She shook her head and pulled on her shiny black shoes, grabbing her coat off the hook. 

"Nothing. Well, Draco, it's just lovely to sit here and be abhorred by you, but I've got a boyfriend to catch," she shrugged. "Toodles." She turned toward the door, pushing it open, cloak billowing behind her. Just as she was about to turn and wave, a cold slender hand grabbed her wrist. She felt his hot breath on her cheek as his spoke, her body trembling as if afraid. 

"So you're going to be like this?" he hissed in her ear, and she could feel the moisture from his words. 

"Yes. Yes, Draco, I am. Just like you were like that," she rolled her eyes, "last night."

His hand tightening on her wrist as she tried to get away, making her cry out. The lines below his pale slim fingers were slowly twisting open her healing wounds, wearing away the makeup.

"Stop!" she cried. "Stop it! Let go of me!" 

He only threw his head back and laughed, holding her on the spot. He leaned back down to her, his breath stinking strongly of alcohol and something else…what was it? She'd smelt it before on the 7th floor, near the back, where the Druggies dwelled…

"You know you don't want me to stop, Ginny." his grip tightened more, the cut reopening. Blood gushed over his white fingers; red blood on white hands. 

She gasped in pain and threw herself at him, catching him off guard. He released her to catch himself, steadying himself on a dresser. But all the while, he stared at her bleeding wrist. 

"What've you done to yourself, Ginny?" he murmured, staring disbelievingly at her arm, as she clasped her hand gently over it to try and stop the blood. 

"I don't know," she whispered, tears welling up and falling down her pale cheeks, creating discolored lines in her makeup. She backed away as his high-in-the-clouds eyes pierced her soul; shrinking back into the darkness of the passage and disappearing into the hallway. 

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It was possibly 5. Blaise was stranding in his normal spot; a tiny alcove near the Fat Lady's portrait. His watch was ticking rather loudly as he tapped his foot, impatience covering all. He was self conscious and God knew it; but Lord! This girl was late! 

He glanced at his watch again, checking the giant-faced grandfather clock down the hall to make sure the time was accurate. He sighed in agitation as he rounded the corner and stood before the Fat Lady herself. He looked her rather restless form in the eye, her glances becoming shifty. 

"Let me in," he commanded her. She glared down at him.

"I-I can't do that, Mr. Zabini," she approached, voice quavering slightly. 

"Oh, I think you can, ma'am," he snickered, holding his wand up to her chin. 

She leaned back slightly, sweat glistening on her painted pale forehead. 

"Yes Mr. Zabini sir, you're welcome into the Common Room," she sighed, defeated. 

As the portrait swung open, Blaise looked about with shifty eyes, searching for any onlookers who might see him entering and alert a teacher. With that accomplished, he crossed the threshold into Gryffindor Tower's Common Room. 

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She'd come to her room after her fiasco. 

__

Classes shmasses, She thought, covering her bloody wrist with one hand and using the injured one to open her door. Failing to search the room before she entered, she waltzed inside, and sauntered right into the bathroom, choking sobs exploding indiscreetly from her lips. 

He watched her enter from the far corners of her room. He'd been standing by the window; her favorite window that overlooked the Pitch. He turned his head slightly, and out of the corner of his eye saw Draco flying high all by his lonesome, floating far above the school and staring at the sky. Smoke drifted away from his face, and Blaise shook his head. He listened out of the corner of his ears, hearing her thrash about in her bathroom. He heard sniffling and sobbing, assuming that she was crying. Water running, cries of hate. He pitied for her. 

She was in her bathroom, scrubbing away the blood stains that seemed to never go away on her pale-moonlight wrists. She never heard the window open or anything outside her bathroom door…only the continuous sound of running water and her own muffled agitated squeaks. She sat on the edge of her bathtub, sighing and dropping the bloody red washcloth into the steaming waters. She peered into them, swearing she saw a black-haired face, and immediately jumped back in terror, all the while screaming at the top of her sore lungs. 

Blaise was standing out on her outer window sill, waving his arms madly to catch Draco's attention. But only ashes drifted down his way as Draco flipped something that resembled a cigarette, sending Blaise into a coughing frenzy. Giving up entirely, he stepped down from the sill in just enough time to hear Ginny screaming. He heard her thrashing around inside her bathroom, glasses breaking and water running; fists slamming on doors but most of all, high-pitched screaming. 

Acting quickly, he pulled the knob of the locked door, slamming it around in its bearings before taking a few steps back and running toward the heavy piece of wood, slamming his shoulder stiffly into it several times. She shrieked even louder when the door that she was slamming her fists on flew open in her face, throwing herself into his arms and whimpering. She ran past him immediately, running toward the window, still screaming. She put her back to the glass, hands on the inside sill and shrieked, tears pouring out of her eyes and fear written strictly across her face. Blood still scarcely dripped from her open wound; she'd possibly neglected to seal it before whatever it was jarred her out of her reverie. 

Blaise glanced up above her and out the window, watching Draco jerk himself around suddenly, staring intently at Ginny's window. 

"Damnit Ginny! Shut up for a second!" he yelled, taking a step forward.

She shrunk back at his sudden outburst, glanced behind him, and straightened herself.

"And what will you do if I don't?" she yelled, snapping her hands behind her back to hide her injury. 

Blaise's anger was replaced by curiosity as he spun around to invade her bathroom. 

"Hey! Hey, what do you think you're doing?" she cried, stepping forward to catch his arm with her injured one. 

"What the hell's THAT?!" he screamed, grabbing her lower forearm and holding it uncomfortably in his hand. She shrieked at the pain as she stumbled backward, him pressing her that way, forgetting all about the potential smoker floating two stories above them. 

"It's nothing! It's nothing I swear, let go of me!" she cried, pressed against the windowsill, head out the window and leaning over the edge. 

She stared into his eyes, tears pouring out her own. She noticed something that didn't belong. His pupils were black as always, the iris blood red. The veins in his forehead stuck out noticeably as he pushed her further over the edge, screaming. 

"He did this, didn't he! DIDN'T HE?!" He screamed, holding her there with too much pressure. She screamed, and in his wild, possessed effort pushed her further, and with shock watched her slip out the window.

Her body slammed against the tower wall with force, making her cry out. The pain in her body and the pain in her arm was overwhelming, and before she knew what was happening the world blacked out before her. 

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He'd seen it all. Even in his high state, he'd watch Blaise push her out the window. 

__

What in hell's all that screaming? Oh, God, what's he doing to her?! he thought, mind hazily racing. 

His slow mind blurred suddenly as his body moved without his brain, nose diving toward the window. 

Blaise gripped her bloody wrist, trying hard to hold onto her. He had no memory of what happened, except for the part where he slammed her door open. He held her arm with one hand, unable to reach her with the other. But in his panic he was sweating; and she was bleeding nonetheless. The liquids mixed, combined, slipping, sliding…

He let out a sharp cry and closed his eyes as her wrist slipped out of his fingers. 

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W00t!!!!! That was five, wasn't it! WASN'T IT?!?! LoL! REVIEW!!! 


	6. Chapter Six

**__**

:Title: Something Innocent

**__**

:Author: Gabrielle Howell a.k.a Gabi217

****

:Summary: Once more, a Draco/Ginny fic. Ginny's going through some weird times at home, but she won't/can't tell anyone about them. While away at school, she develops a new habit from some of the bad-boys at school: Cutting. But upon seeing a certain sight she wishes to forget, she gets back at Draco and herself with numerous 'slicings' and an outrageous game of Jealousy in all four corners. Draco, on the other hand, has found another way of self-mutalization: drugs. Who but their best friends can find the answers to this silly pastime? What will happen when the results come out the ones that everyone wanted? Will Gryffindor's Beauty and Slytherin's Prince become the Happy People they want to be?

:Disclaimer: I hereby announce, for all of this story, that I own nothing; J.K. Rowling owns it all. I only own my huge, ALMOST-figured-out-plot, of which you might trip on if it was in front of you. :D have a lovely day. __

Chapter Six: Someone's Knocking

She awoke again. A strong breeze was lapping at her hair, flipping it into messy tangles as she flew through the sky. She just stared up at the clear blue space, not even bothering to see who'd rescued her this time. She only cared about the warm, protective hands that wrapped around her waist, and the slightly-comforting-but-hazy scent of sweet smoke that seemed to wreath her rescuer's head. As she stared indistinctly at the clouds, hazily recalling the last dream she'd had, when she'd blacked out.

__

The sky was dark. A navy blue color, but gray slunk in the corners in clouds, growing ever larger and promising storms. She was sitting on a rock before the ocean, it seemed, dipping her feet cautiously into the lapping green waves that devoured everything else. The sand had long since washed away, replaced by beds of ashes and small fires that never seemed to be quenched; ever burning, much to her dismay. But there was a dismal tree that seemed to slink over her one rock, it's branches lazily tapping the ashes and the base of the rock as the thrashing winds tossed it around.

She recognized it immediately. The Whomping (A/N: sorry if I misspelled it) Willow sat, drained and weak behind her large, solid rock. It's branches didn't move as she bent over to finger the dry leaves, and it only gave a groan as she shook one of its boughs.

__

One brown haired girl with two other snaky heads was walking among the fires, the heads on the long stalk-y reptile bodies were immediately recognizable. A red head and an ebony haired boy accompanied the brunette on the snakes, flapping their slimy, forked tongues at her in a menacing way.

Hermione approached her. Head tilted to the side, Harry and Ron's snakeheads curling to form a crown around her frizzy brown head.

Her eyes snapped opened, dream fuzzy. He'd nose-dived, to…somewhere. She didn't know. Didn't care. She went back to her dream.

__

Hermione had opened her mouth. No words came out, but a silent order was issued.

'Walk the water.' she seemed to say.

Ginny shook her head. 'It's going to storm,' she answered.

'It will not phase you' she replied. Ginny had shrugged, and set out over the thrashing sea-green waves, her feet cemented solidly on the tossing liquid.

She'd begun to walk across the ocean, when the snakes appeared in the clouds, thrashing the water inside them. As the rain poured, the waves whipped dangerously, suckling her under, enclosing her into a vial of ocean water and death.

She woke, sunlight in her eyes. Breathing in her ear. Yelling, screaming, complaints and worried voices. _It's too much, _her brain said. _Too much for you. Go. Go back to sleep._

And she did. She passed off into her nightmares as randomly as before.

---------------------------------------

It'd been months. He'd gone to visit her while she was in the hospital, smirking spitefully as he watched her painfully try to re-grow her bones as well as her pride. But numerous times, he had someone walk in and ask, "Who was your rescuer?"

She would answer, hesitantly, "I don't remember."

His heart would grow heavy. And damnit, this was a Weasel! A red-haired, freckle-faced, snot-nosed prat of a Weasley, and he was flipping out for her. Rescuing her from certain deaths and pushing his steaming tongue into her cold mouth.

They couldn't; shouldn't be the same person. Never in his life could he ever see himself falling for a fucking Weasley. But Virginia Weasley was different! He only sighed and turned, tucking himself away into a pile of homework and ink and quills, falling into the deep recesses of sleep.

__

Heartbeat. A steady heartbeat. He heard it. **Buh-bum. Buh-bum. Buh-bum.** He smiled. Her heartbeat. Good. Alive. He settled.

It stilled, its empty space filled with the ill-promising sound of a pulse monitor. A very large, never-settling noise that ended all. The stopping of air. The rushing of feet. Hushed voices and strange, strangled cries. Death loomed its shadows against the walls of the infirmary.

He awoke. Stiffly, heart thumping, and gasping incredibly for his breath. As his eyes snapped open, he saw nothing. He blinked, to make sure he was alive. A stifled giggle submerged into his ears. Something moved on his stomach. Hands on his chest. Silky, soft hair brushing his cheek. He sighed her name.

"Ginny," he whispered, breathing it softly.

"Who?" it responded. _Damn. Wrong name._ He'd startled her.

"Amy?" he murmured again, reaching up to touch her face. She sighed into his palm, pulling her down and touching his lips with hers.

__

That's right, Amy. Make me forget.

Her hands touched his cold, sweat-glistening cheek.

"Draco have a bad dream?" she whispered, babying him, her fingers gently gliding smoothly over his forehead.

He sighed into her curls.

"Very bad, luv. Very bad," he murmured, hugging her tightly to him.

She'd been growing on him. Not the way Ginny had; but different. He wanted her around to soothe his loneliness, someone to share his aches when he felt terrible. Someone to pacify his sexual frustrations. Just someone.

She drew her slim, tan fingers into his hair, twirling bits as she popped her gum in his ear. He smiled.

"Let me make you overlook them, then," she whispered next to his face, into his ear. He nodded as she drew the curtains.

"By the way, luv. Get this damn thing off of me," he muttered, pulling wildly at the blindfold.

She laughed. "Yes, Draco."

He pulled her down once more for a kiss, Ginny's name exploding in fireworks in his brain, fingers itching for her soft, cool skin. His body ached for her. But the dream in his head remained the same.

---------------------------------------

She woke in the infirmary, as she did every morning. White sheets, white pillows, everything sparkly fucking white. She sighed and collapsed back into the pillows, red straight hair fanning out in every direction. Homework, books, and get-well treats had been set lightly in her trunk, which had been placed comfortingly at the end of her own hospital bed. Everything seemed to be good.

But not everything was normal.

There was a giant empty space in her heart, left by someone or something that had moved on without her…; even though Blaise visited every day between classes to sit at her bedside and rub her shoulders and her neck, twist his fingers in her hair and apologize for doing this to her, something seemed to be missing.

It was particularly late in the afternoon, perhaps three o'clock or so. She'd just gotten out some crutches and was about to take the long, agonizing trip to the loo, when someone knocked on the little door that resembled her infirmary room privacy.

She sighed loudly and yelled, "Come in!"

Donata, Dorcas, and Nikai sauntered happily into the room, and, it being a Wednesday, were happy to assist their best friend on their visiting day.

"Gin!" they all shrieked loudly in unison.

"My Gabbriellini sisters!" she screamed just as loud, dropping her crutches to fall into their huddle for numerous hugs.

"Dorcas! Donata! Nikai! How was your trip to the Americas?" she asked, curious.

"Oh Gin! It was-" Donata started.

"Wonderful!" Dorcas finished, breathing out a sigh.

"We saw The Statue of-" Donata started once more,

"Liberty! It was beautiful! And-"

"Green! Oh, Ginny, it was the prettiest color of-"

"Sea green you'll ever find! And she was so-"

"Tall! She was huge! Oh, Ginny-"

"You should've gone!" they murmured dreamily together.

Nikai laughed.

"Yes, Gin, it was lovely. But we've come to see how _you_ are! Are you hurting, still?" she asked, worry scribbled across her now-tan features.

"Oh, not too much. Just a splintered or fractured bone here or there. Me being fragile and all," she gestured to her body, "makes a person as weak as I break easily," she explained, smirk scrawled across her lips.

"Need help?" Nikai asked after a long silence; noticing the lack of color in her face, and the crutches discarded in between the bathroom and her bed, and took a hint.

"It looks like you're about to take a bloody piss on yourself!" Nikai laughed and grinned at her best friend.

"Too right," Donata and Dorcas laughed together.

"If you wouldn't mind, please give me a shove!" she cried feebly, waving her hands helplessly in the air as Dorcas, Nikai, and Donata each placed one hand on her back and pushed gently, sailing her in the direction of the bathroom.

The bell rang, and Blaise was knocking. Nikai stood at the bathroom door, and whispered her goodbyes, promising to stop in later.

Signaling the next class, the bell rang again. Blaise, who had a free period from Divination, invited himself in and made himself comfy cozy on her bed, while he waited for her to come out of the bathroom.

When she did, in a large huff and mis-tied hospital robes, she came out of the bathroom, leaning heavily on the frame.

"Hullo," she murmured, sleep signaled in her voice.

"Need some help, luv?" he drawled, laughing inaudibly as he scooped her up and carried her over to her bed, snapping her bra strap lightly. She giggled, warmth spreading from her chest to her cheeks.

"You didn't have to do that, Blaise," she whispered, coming her fingers comfortably through his blonde hair. Sometimes, if she didn't see his face, she'd pretend it was Draco…

"Oh, Gin, I don't have to do anything, pet. I just do 'cause I want to," he replied. She giggled and smiled.

"No, you're only doing that so I'll try to get your bride-to-be back to you," she argued calmly.

He smirked. "That too, I suppose. But I've gotten quite used to the taste of your lips, doll," he replied back once more, leaning close and jerking his tongue smoothly across her bottom lip, re-asting the chocolate pudding she'd sucked down not 10 minutes ago.

She giggled and was about to pull him down, having gotten used to his kisses by now. But as his hand moved unconsciously up her shirt, another knock at the door startled her. Blaise, remembering why he'd come in in the first place, leaned back and whispered, "Who rescued you when you fell, Gin?"

Her eyes closed.

__

Smoke. Sweet smelling smoke. Flickering blonde hair. Clouds clouds clouds; green and black robes. A broom. Her dream. His voice as he hummed: deep and throaty, but husky as if he'd been deeply, sexually aroused. Or smoking, perhaps. She'd frowned, but cuddled further into his strong, comfortable gasp and relaxed. Draco, she'd cooed.

They opened.

"I don't know, Blaise. I can't remember," she sighed once more, his face falling. He left one last kiss to linger on her lips as Madame Pomfrey sauntered in, reporting her departure and leaving a fresh stack of homework on her desk. She sighed again as she pulled out her quill, attacking the papers with another sigh.

---------------------------------------

He rolled over. He didn't know what time it was, perhaps near supper. But as he rolled, he noticed the silence. _Past dinner,_ he sighed. His stomach growled menacingly. His watch read 11:45. _Perfect,_ he grinned. He slipped out of bed, rummaging around in his mini-fridge for a light snack and pulling on his clothes. Wife-beater, t-shirt, boxers, pajama pants, slippers. He rubbed his head and ruffled his hair. Biting a tiny piece off the Pumpkin Pasty, he gathered his invisibility cloak and arranged it around his shoulders, closing the curtains to hide Amy and disappearing out the door.

The Common Room, unfortunately, was not empty. It was silent and still, thank heavens, but not empty. Late-night-studiers were sprawled across chairs with books hanging from their fingertips, drool dripping down their faces. He grimaced in disgust, but slipped the books away and marked the pages, closing them and laying them gently beside the chairs.

Hey, he had to have a heart every once and awhile.

He'd felt as if he floated down the hallway, landing softly in front of the infirmary doors. Slipping in, he drifted around the Hospital Area, before arriving at Ginny's room. He slipped in and ghosted up beside her, slipping his cloak off hesitantly. Her eyes moved under their lids, dreams floating by unconsciously as her eyelids fluttered. He gently settled himself on the bed beside her, curving himself around her body and running his long, pale fingers through her hair. He sighed into the fire, his fingers drawing small circles on her scalp as he wrapped strands of red around them. She rolled over and smothered her face into his chest, one arm wrapped tightly around his waist and the other gripping his shoulder. She sighed a mewling sigh in her sleep as a slow half-smile floated across her lips.

His eyes drifted closed as he laid his head back down on the white pillows, arm draped comfortingly over her side.

W00t!!!!! YaY! Chap numba SIX!!!!BOOYAH!!!REVIEW!!!!


	7. Chapter Seven

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:Title: Something Innocent

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:Author: Gabrielle Howell a.k.a Gabi217

:Summary: Once more, a Draco/Ginny fic. Ginny's going through some weird times at home, but she won't/can't tell anyone about them. While away at school, she develops a new habit from some of the bad-boys at school: Cutting. But upon seeing a certain sight she wishes to forget, she gets back at Draco and herself with numerous 'slicings' and an outrageous game of Jealousy in all four corners. Draco, on the other hand, has found another way of self-mutalization: drugs. Who but their best friends can find the answers to this silly pastime? What will happen when the results come out the ones that everyone wanted? Will Gryffindor's Beauty and Slytherin's Prince become the Happy People they want to be?

:Disclaimer: I hereby announce, for all of this story, that I own nothing; J.K. Rowling owns it all. I only own my huge, ALMOST-figured-out-plot, of which you might trip on if it was in front of you. :D have a lovely day. __

Chapter Seven: A Poet's Meaning

* * *

She woke sometime in the morning, vaguely missing a presence she was sure was there last night; immediately left cold and hungry for something other than a shaken loneliness.

Madame Pomfrey came in moments later, pulling open the large white velvet curtains and rushing over to her bed.

"Wake up dear," she murmured, pinching her shoulder lightly. Ginny smiled warily.

"I'm awake, Poppy," she yawned, uneasily pulling back the covers and dropping her legs over the side.

"It's time to go to class today," Poppy said, helping her off of her white hospital bed.

"I know, and I dread every bit of it," she sighed, reaching for today's outfit.

"The Headmaster and I agreed you only had to go to one class though, love," she smiled, helping her pull her uniform on.

"Oh?" Ginny asked, perking up a bit.

"Yes. He said you have to go to your English class," she said, brushing off her skirt.

Ginny warily eyed the poem she'd had to write for that class. She was advanced, and shared it with the 7th year Slytherins and Ravenclaws. She sighed as she, with help from other health assistants, made her way down the dusty hallway to the English and Magical Literature room. It was poetry week. She sighed noisily as she collapsed softly into a chair near the front. Today was the reading day. _Damn damn damn._

After about a half an hour of listening to useless works, the substitute, a Mr. Humphrey, called her to the front.

"You've been known to write some interesting things, Ms. Weasley. Care to share them? 0 if you don't…" he smirked. She sighed and stood involuntarily.

The class glared at her stupidly, waiting for her to begin her rhyme. Leaning on an extra desk, she stiffened her parchment and cleared her throat.

I can't stop your vibrations

But I feel your sensations

And I giggle and smile

Begging, "Come stay, for awhile."

Your eyes of silver diamond

Tell me, "Try, and try again, love"

As I muster up my hope and dreams

Pulling my life together at the seams.

I try to stand still before you

I can't help that I abhor your

But that feeling's in my blood

And my heart tells me, that you're a dud

I see you walking down the hallway

Wish to God you'd just smile my way

I know I'm just a "Weaslette"

But no one can keep me from what I haven't gotten yet

You aren't anything, and yet you're everything

What I want, I can't have; it's only a fling

This all feels so uncomfortable to me

Begging you, "Can't you see?"

I want you and I need you

Does my pity only feed you?

I love your shiny silver eyes

Bright like stars up in the skies

Wish near, wish far, wish everywhere for you

But whatever I'm here wishing for, well, wishing just won't make it true

I now know that I mean nothing, and by nothing, well, that's right

But it still gave you no reason to keep me up all night

I'm tired of all my tears from you, my sighs and sobs of hurt

I'm tired of all your bragging fits, I hate you, you stupid flirt

But big fucking deal, anyway, right? Nothing's getting better

I might as well go back in time, get hung, a Scarlet Letter

Oh boo hoo, stupid Malfoy fuck, no one cares if you're warm inside

All I know now, these days, is that one day, I'll have your hide.

She finished the last sentence in a soft voice, re-folding the poem slowly. She eyed the crowd with a steely gaze, her soft coffee eyes landing on a certain blonde. He looked quite perturbed, but inside his silver-sapphire eyes there seemed to be a glint of hurt.

She limped back to her seat, sitting herself softly down inside it, conscious weighing a million.

At last, the bell rang, after 10 long poetry readings and numerous Slytherin stares pointed to the back of her head. This being the only class she was required to attend, she was assisted back to her hospital room where she collapsed on her bed until evening.

She woke at supper. She'd been left some chicken noodle soup and some biscuits, a goblet full of pumpkin juice, her evening pills, ("Bleh") and a piece of carrot cake.

Once she'd attacked the food and lastly, the pills, she settled back into her pillows with a fresh quill and her diary. But not just any diary….

She'd fallen asleep soon after the last greetings were exchanged and was lightly dozing when her door creaked, and her coffee eyes shot open. A blurry figure stood over her numb body, blonde hair poking out of the top. She closed her eyes tight shut as the figure slipped off it's Invisibility Cloak, revealing none other than her unpredictable rescuer; Draco Malfoy.

**(It was originally going to be cliffed there, but I figured that you guys deserve more than that)**

She sucked in breath after breath as she watched his towering figure that loomed over her pale body in the dark. He reached out a shaky hand as he touched her face; chin up to her eye, and over to her temple, wrapping curls around his fingers. She fluttered her eyelashes gently, giving a speechless warning that she was about to wake. He removed his hand softly from her hair as she stared up at him, chocolate eyes unreadable.

"Draco," she crooned. He appeared to be startled.

"Virginia," he cooed back to her, scooting her over a bit and settling on the bed beside her.

After a long silence of holding, he whispered into her hair, "Who rescued you, Gin? Who was it?"

She closed her eyes and sighed, once more reliving the memory she relived every day…

"It was you, wasn't it, Draco? It was you, right? It had to have been you. It just had to have," she cried softly, the plea muffled into his chest as she squeezed him tightly.

He sighed, somewhat relieved, and squeezed back.

"Yes. It was me. I was up there, uhhm…doing something, and I saw you dangling there, all bloody and helpless, and slipping….I had to do something," he whispered.

They sat in silence for a few moments, hanging onto the moment they were living that she knew wouldn't last.

"What's happening to you, Ginny?" he murmured into her hair, pulling back to examine her truth-telling eyes. "What's happening?"

She stopped.

"It was an accident," she spoke, eyes slipping shut to hide her lie. "I slipped and fell a few days ago, and then you grabbed it and it opened, and he grabbed it and it opened it _again, _and I don't know," she whispered hoarsely, tears falling out of her closed eyelids.

He squeezed her again, rubbing small circles on her back softly.

"It's alright, it's alright. I'm sorry, I promise. I didn't mean to hurt you," he murmured, hugging her tightly.

A wave of silence drifted by between them.

"Which class are you going to tomorrow?" he asked, pulling away gently.

"None," she groaned, rolling over to face the other side of the bed, away from him.

He grabbed her hips and pulled her to him. "Are you going to dinner?"

"No," was her reply.

"Lunch?" he asked.

"No," she replied once more.

"Breakfast?!?" he poked.

"No! I'm not setting one foot outside these damn doors," she retorted, dismissing the questions immediately. He frowned, letting go of her hips and rolling away, off the bed. He pulled his cloak back on and arranged it around his shoulders, pulling her blankets back up to her chin.

"Alright, then. I'll just spend the afternoon with Amy," he stated Mater-Of-Factly.

"Fine. I'll spend the afternoon with Blaise," she scoffed, pushing off the blankets.

"Fine." he said, pulling them back up.

"Fine!" she cried, pushing them back off and standing up before his invisible figure.

"Fine_!" _he repeated, pushing back the cloak.

"_Whatever!_" she cried once more, grabbing his face in her pale, cold hands and bringing his lips to meet hers.

He pushed her back onto the bed, not breaking the kiss. "You win," he murmured between tongues.

But behind her room door, a very disgruntled and jealous Amy stood, arms crossed and tears in her eyes. "You'll pay, Draco. You'll pay," she whispered.

END CHAPTER…SEVEN!! REVIEW!!!!


	8. Chapter Eight

**__**

:Title: Something Innocent

**__**

:Author: Gabrielle Howell a.k.a Gabi217

****

:Summary: Once more, a Draco/Ginny fic. Ginny's going through some weird times at home, but she won't/can't tell anyone about them. While away at school, she develops a new habit from some of the bad-boys at school: Cutting. But upon seeing a certain sight she wishes to forget, she gets back at Draco and herself with numerous 'slicings' and an outrageous game of Jealousy in all four corners. Draco, on the other hand, has found another way of self-mutalization: drugs. Who but their best friends can find the answers to this silly pastime? What will happen when the results come out the ones that everyone wanted? Will Gryffindor's Beauty and Slytherin's Prince become the Happy People they want to be?

:Disclaimer: I hereby announce, for all of this story, that I own nothing; J.K. Rowling owns it all. I only own my huge, ALMOST-figured-out-plot, of which you might trip on if it was in front of you. :D have a lovely day. __

Chapter Eight: Revenge isn't Sweet

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(A/N: Someone told me to fix the pairing…I swear, I'm working on it! I can't just smack them all together, it'd be uneventful…besides, I think I'm approaching a writer's block! Knock on wood! **knock knock **Anyway, I've been checking out of school to work on this after testing so whatever I throw at you, TAKE IT GRATEFULLY! LoL! Thank you so much to my reviewers; what could I do without you guys?? Keep reading! And REVIEW! BTW I might add some of the Dream Team in here, like a very…jealous…Boy-Who-Lived, and Ron falls 4 Amy perhaps…ooh, and maybe Hermione might could hook up!! Maybe not..**)**

Amy had seen everything. She'd snuck out of Draco's bedroom not long after he left, suspicious of him making a big deal to be extra silent. Usually, if he happened to wake her up, they would just sex things up a bit and go back to sleep. That was usually what he wanted… but why the quiet tonight?

She had watched with quiet anticipation as he slipped out of his dorm room, leaving her cold and naked without his presence. She'd dressed quickly and adorned her own Invisibility Cloak, creeping down the hallway after him. She was serenely curious as to why he was standing before the Infirmary doors, and she was still slinking behind him as he entered Ginny's room. She had managed to suck back her breath, letting it flow out her nostrils without a suspicious sound.

She'd watched when they kissed; watched when he pushed her back onto the bed frantically tearing at her hospital gown, trying to remove it. But she'd turned away when he had; and listened with tears freely flowing down her red cheeks. She heard Ginny's moans and gasps; Draco's low male giggles and his own groans. She felt anger in her chest and limbs as they continued their…_fling_, madder by the second when they lastly gasped so loud she thought it'd wake the school; exchanging one another's names in barely audible whispers. She'd turned back to the door, finding them there, holding each other, serenely…sincerely…hadn't that been her job? Didn't that slut of a Gryffindor have another boy hanging on her very lips, placidly waiting night after night for his _girlfriend, _while she flung kiss after kiss to HERS?

Abhorrence now flowed freely through her, and she harshly fought every urge to break through that door and strangle them both silly.

But at the same time she was envious; who was this Gryffindor girl who had managed to stake two guys at once? Who was she to steal the only guy that Amy might've actually had a _thing _for? It wasn't fair! How could she? How could he? What was going ON? She'd get some answers soon, she promised herself. Soon. She gathered her cloak around her shoulders once more, sniffles and hiccups uncontrollably leaking from her mouth. She descended the steps at the end of the corridor, approaching Slytherin's dungeons. Lingering outside the doorway was Blaise Zabini, a raven-haired woman slinking beneath his arm, cuddling his side with her arms wrapped firmly around his waist. Amy approached him stiffly, shoulders back, tear-dripping chin pointed out with courage. She reached out a long, stiff arm and tapped him on the shoulder.

He woke a few hours later, a mewling, stark-naked Ginny clinging to his side. Sweat was still visible in the crevice of her breasts, her left leg hooked gently around his right; and as he inhaled, the air around them smelt strangely sweet of smoke and sex. He closed his eyes, stroking the smooth, pale back of his angel, the moonlight shining down on her making her look significantly like one of heaven. But her red hair, now, that was a different story…in the daylight she was a fiery spirit, an angel of hell; his saccharine goddess of fire. But at night it almost twinged his heart to look down on her and wonder, _How could I have caused this girl so much trouble? _She always looked so honest and innocent before him; the dark brought out her true colors. Her red hair looked a light red as the stringy-straight curls framed her beautiful pale face, smaller ones sticking to her forehead and cheeks which had been caught by the sweat that still lingered there. Without disturbing her sleep, he brought his shaky, cold fingers up to her forehead, moving them back and tucking them behind her ear. One of his hands wrapped swiftly around the back of her neck, thumb resting gently on her pulse point. Her body convulsed in an entertaining shudder, and in her sleep she pulled herself closer to him. As he cradled her head in his hand, his fingers grew warmer, bringing a forever-remaining thought into his head before he drifted off again; _her skin was always warm, heating his ice-cold body from head to toe, with her sweet flesh; His little fiery goddess._

She woke a few hours later, wrapped in her own down comforter which smelled, **(you guessed it!) **sugary of smoke…and…sex. As she dropped her head back into her few pillows with a relaxed sigh, she recalled the events of the night before, when her virginity was swept away from her. **(Was she still a virgin before? Did I say that?)** But she remembered something from her dreams…His hands. In the middle of the night, while she was halfway in dreamland, she remembered his icy cool fingers dusting her forehead and the back of her neck, touching her pulse point with a slightly pleasurable pressure. That was something she'd grown to remember; _his fingers were always cool, like sweet ice on her skin. Yes. Her beautiful god of ice._. She smiled a tranquil smile, fingers stroking the spot where he'd lain just a few hours before. The curtains were now opened, revealing the moon she noticed, and a bustling figure was outside her doorway, hidden in the dark. She sat up with a jerk and a groan, several bite marks lingering on her neck and, she noticed with a blush, _her breasts. _Her shoulders had a few red marks, as did her wrists and thighs. Her stomach and far…low abdomen muscles clenched and ached, as she remembered again. _My virginity, _she frowned. _It's lost now…_

She sighed, disgruntled, and searched the end of the bed and the floor for her hospital robe. Her torn ligaments and cracked bones ached as she heaved herself off the bed and onto the cold tile, blushing self-consciously as she snatched her robe off a lamp somewhere on the other side of the room, and tied it on. Just as she'd managed to apply a quick glamour spell to her bruises and bites, Poppy knocked badgering-ly on the door.

"Virginia," she half sang, half called through the cracked entrance. "Wake up darling." she crooned, and Ginny's eyes felt heavy again. All her energy was lost in some other land that had been cleared away from her list of ever-lasting things, along with her fragile virginity. For an odd reason she almost wept, recalling everything from last night in the slight blink of an eye; Draco's sweaty, cologne-smelling body hovering over hears, grunting and watching her with delicate passion as he quickly thrust inside her, breaking her maidenhead amidst a laugh that formed a cry of pain. He surveyed her as he kissed away the light tears that fell out of her closed eyelids, but the pain soon gave way to a dull throbbing as he began to gently re-thrust, letting her get accustomed to his size, watching her every second. And yet during all this passion she still gripped his hands tight, fingers locked as she giggled and moaned her virginity away. But the thought was still there. _He deflowered me. _She wanted to gasp, wanted to cry, wanted to do anything to get it back. Because somehow, she didn't feel the same. _You shouldn't, _her conscience told her. _You're his now. You belong to him. See for yourself, Ginny-girl._

And as the tears rolled down her cheeks, she saw it was true. On the back of her right hip, right where it curved, was a handprint. But what startled her was that inside that handprint was his name, scrolled permanently into her hip with what looked like red ink. (Or blood. She shuddered all the same.) And she gave a started cry as she covered it with her own hand, feeling the icy cold numbness there. Because she was marked with his own mark; his own name. Because down beneath her grasping pale fingers, was written _Draco Malfoy_ in his own blood.

When he came up to his dorm room door, he heard noise. He pressed his ear up against the oak carefully not to make any himself, and heard a female grunt and a faint male groan. A skin-smacking sound. He frowned. A man? _Not just a man. A woman. Listen. _He pressed his ear back against it again, and sure enough, he heard a female cry and several pants of breath and someone ripping clothing. He had the sudden impulse to bust the door open to figure out who this was who was lingering and relieving themselves of their sexual frustrations in _his _private dorm? And who knew the password?

__

Ginny does. No, couldn't be her. _She was still sore from last night when…when…Oh damn. I forgot…_He sighed. The Print. Damn… _Blaise. _No, he changed it after Blaise had learned it. He'd interrupted his smoking so many times it drove him insane, so he changed it… _Pansy. _Hell no. She was pretty much fucking every other guy, and had left him alone for now. _Amy. _He suddenly couldn't think of a reason why not. _Amy knows the password. _Shit. That was right. Amy knew the fucking password because she slept in his room…_No._ How could she do that? Betray him like that?

Betrayal. He could almost laugh. If she's looking to make _him _jealous, hell, fuck her. But still…He couldn't help feeling slightly angry that there was actually a person in _his room_ that was fucking a person of Draco Malfoy's property. Upon sudden mad rush he opened the door, calmly, and walked to his bathroom despite the seriously-shagging couple. He closed the door as gently as possible and washed his face, wet a cloth and scrubbed his body away of her soul-deep scent.

Amy stood stock-still while Blaise sucked and caressed her most delicate places, watching the bathroom door where Draco had just calmly opened the door to his own room, walked right to his bathroom without one show of emotion or a word, and disappeared into the tiled section. She pulled Blaise up and motioned toward the door, kissing him a few times on his swollen, slick lips and watching him dress with an amused look gracing her tan features.

She made him leave, escorting him out the door with so much as a sleepy goodbye and a few extra kisses. When she saw him walk down the hallway and into his room safely, she curled up on Draco's wrinkled bed, sweat clinging to her arms and legs.

When he emerged from the bathroom moments later, she was semi-sleeping and gazing around the room in a somewhat high half-lidded stare. She watched him with a lack of patience as he approached the window seat on the other side of the room, and removed something small and white from his cloak pocket. Setting it gently between his lips, he lit it with a match and took a puff, staring off idly into the dark morning sky.

She dozed off in a somewhat comfortable, satisfied sleep, succumbing dreams of mixed faces and pleasures and the envious looks of a jealous ex-lover…

She'd long since stopped crying, as the tears gave way to a fragile sleep. During that sleep, however, Madame Pomfrey searched Ginny's body, amazed by all the new bruises and love bites (which she didn't know were love bites) and marks on her wrists…but what intrigued her, yet startled her most, was the handprint practically pressed into her body and the strange blood signature of Slytherin's Prince. She couldn't help but gasp, and as she gently touched the spot Ginny's body convulsed, and she rolled over, hiding the mark. Poppy could only stare as she took in this pale, somewhat innocent little girl; teenager and try to hide a smile.

But she knew something was wrong. She wouldn't deny that; a girl who'd given themselves away at this age was bound to be sleeping with a satisfied smile, not a face that was contorted in pain and internal anguish…yet as she leaned close she could hear Ginny murmuring words as she dreamt up something completely premonition-al.

__

She was standing in the dark room, in the corner, watching him inhale deeply on that little white roll. A girl was asleep gently on the bed, head tilted to the side, body completely unclothed. He was trembling terribly and the flames in the candles around the room flickered at once when his hand slammed softly into the padded window seat, and a few went out, casting him in a shadow of darkness. The window was opened; she saw that now. The breeze was teasing the flames in the hearth and they were flickering, catching on the stone and cooling away. And then she awoke, and rose from the bed. The full moon touched her sweat-enveloped body, and Ginny watched in horror as her skin began to change. Closed her eyes. There was the mentally disgusting sound of tearing skin, and an ear-splitting, blood-curdling low male scream…and then before she reopened them, the girl was gone out the window, leaving Draco's unconscious/lifeless body lying on his own green plush carpet in a pool of his own blood, the joint still smoking inertly away.

She awoke not long after Poppy left the room. It was still dark and as she checked the clock, it was only 3 in the morning. She immediately pushed herself out of her bed with a pained grimace, pulling a cloak and slippers onto her nearly-nude body. She pushed her curls back and pulled open the door stealthily, afraid the creak would rouse the Infirmary Mistress that slept just down the hall. She slipped out of the Infirmary altogether with replenished speed, slipping down stairway after stairway as she came to the Slytherin Dungeons. Whispering the password the portrait slipped open, and she immediately ran past the empty Common Room and into the Boys' section of the dorms; down the hall and hanging a left she murmured the password and stood at the threshold, pale fingertips resting gently on her mouth…

END CHAPTER…EIGHT!!! REVIEW!!!!


	9. Chapter Nine

**__**

:Title: Something Innocent

**__**

:Author: Gabrielle Howell a.k.a Gabi217

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:Summary: Once more, a Draco/Ginny fic. Ginny's going through some weird times at home, but she won't/can't tell anyone about them. While away at school, she develops a new habit from some of the bad-boys at school: Cutting. But upon seeing a certain sight she wishes to forget, she gets back at Draco and herself with numerous 'slicings' and an outrageous game of Jealousy in all four corners. Draco, on the other hand, has found another way of self-mutalization: drugs. Who but their best friends can find the answers to this silly pastime? What will happen when the results come out the ones that everyone wanted? Will Gryffindor's Beauty and Slytherin's Prince become the Happy People they want to be?

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:Disclaimer: I hereby announce, for all of this story, that I own nothing; J.K. Rowling owns it all. I only own my huge, ALMOST-figured-out-plot, of which you might trip on if it was in front of you. :D have a lovely day.

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Chapter Nine: Visits to Those Who Hurt

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(A/N: JELLYBEANZ!!!- told me to fix the pairing-(lol)…I swear, I'm working on it! I can't just smack them all together, it'd be uneventful…besides, I think I'm still approaching a writer's block! Knock on wood! **knock knock S**o whatever I throw at you, TAKE IT GRATEFULLY! LoL! Thank you so much to my reviewers; what could I do without you guys?? Keep reading! And REVIEW! BTW I might add some of the Dream Team!))

(I'm going to give you a hint about the pairing. So far, I've been trying to match up people with other people who aren't seriously in love with someone else… of course Draco and Ginny combine, you can already sense that, unless I change it…mischievous grin…Ron might actually fall for Amy or one of the twins! Yikes! LoL, Harry might try and scope out Nikai or something…hmmm…that leaves Blaise in the dust, doesn't it? …I'll think about it. Maybe towards the end. BTW! Go look at the author's note in 'Where did MY happy ending go?' , it explains my absence this week **GINNY'S NAME IS GINEVRA!!!!! Weird, right?? Thank you, Silent Solitude, for telling me that!**)

She couldn't open her eyes. This person, this **thing,** just couldn't be him. It couldn't be; wouldn't be! Oh Lord it would kill her just as that lazy bitch of a Slytherin had nearly killed him…but yet she stood at the doorway amid the clashing green-red-and-silver room, thoughts running together like tears and her mascara. Her feet were lead blocks but she didn't blame them; she had the urge to run to him and cover him with her body, whisper words to him, heal him in every way she knew how. But she couldn't covet him, and in some sense it felt so wrong to stand there as it was right. So instead she ran to him and fell to her knees, locks of fire tumbling over her pale, half-clothed shoulder and touching his face and chest, tips dyed by his hot blood. She gently cradled his moaning head, surprised he wasn't yet fully unconscious, holding back more blood with her small, fragile hands. She cried over his body until her eyes hurt, screaming for help, for anything, for anybody who was listening.

But most of all she screamed because it hurt her to feel his pain. As if their bodies were connected she could feel his hurts, his bleeding clogging her heart and throat with a giant steel block. "Draco," she cried. "Draco, don't leave me…" tears fell and mingled with his blood. He groaned and lost consciousness. She cried out in anguish as a figure stood in the doorway, glaring in, eyes poised suspiciously in curiosity and a strange softness she hadn't seen before, but mostly anger and something else. Hurt? The thought disappeared. As the figure moved into the light she cried harder, the moon's rays reflecting off his shiny red hair as his angry red face boiled and his cloudy green eyes pierced her soul. He bent down stiffly, slapping her face deftly as she cried for him to help her. A red print was left on her left cheek, nearly the same size as the one on her back. She fell silent, and as the tingling, hot blood dripped off her cheek and down her chin, she dropped into the dark.

Days passed.

She didn't know what time it was. Hell, she didn't want to care. Her eyes were swollen into slits from all the tears she'd cried, salt disgustingly crusting on her eyelashes. Poppy swiftly walked over to her bed where she slumped, whimpering and scratching at the sheets, forcing away the imaginary lines of red she could still quite clearly remember from the few nights before. Her mind ran in streaks before her, not being able to focus on one simple thought. But one word and perhaps a few others reverberated in her head. _Draco, _she called out aimlessly. _Draco, where are you?_

She leaned her head up as a cool washcloth brushed over her forehead, a tiny swab of antibiotics sweeping gently over her crusting eyelids, clearing away the salt bits. Her eyes always dripped now, even while she was sleeping; she'd cried so much in the last few nights that she was sure she was going to go blind. Draco's near-death experience, the look her brother had shot at her when he found her in his room. The angry red welt that had formed beneath the blood and pain from his ruthless, tormenting slap. Her eyes watered at the thought of it as a bandaged hand touched her sleek flesh. She shuddered and fell back onto the pillows when her strength withered.

Every night her eyes watered. Her dreams were crucifying, hurting her from inside out. She dreamt of everything; the attacks that had happened after Draco's, the source unknown. But in every dream she saw him, her suspicious lover, bleeding his life away in his own room. She cried out and fell back into unconsciousness.

One particular night, though, she awoke. Nikai's closed face rested on her crisp white bed sheets as she rubbed her eyes, prying them open. Gently sliding off the bed she crept over to the door, slipping out unknown. Down the hallway another door was closed, shadows slinking on the glass. _He's back from St. Mungo's, then,_ she thought, a tiny twinge of happiness dwelling inside her. She came to the door and rested her hand gently on the knob, sucking in a breath, hopefully preparing herself for what she'd find.

There, lying almost dead on those pale white sheets was a face she feared she'd never see again. With heavy footsteps she approached him, his eyes half-lidded and watching her as she moved. You could barely see that platinum blonde hair hence it was wrapped in gauze and bandage, as was 90% of his chest and back. His skin looked barely transparent, and his once-almost-comforting steely-sapphire eyes had become practically dull and lifeless. Although his body greatly contrasted with the blood stains on his bandages, on the inside she still thought he could look as beautiful as ever, but distinguished this thought as she lit a candle in the corner of the room. His eyes shifted as she watched, glued to her fragile, swollen face and fiery red hair as she crept across his recovery room. Her body sent a jolt of something up his spine, head tilting back to accept the shudders that crept along with it. He smiled to himself a hidden, soft smile as he remembered her warm, wet face close to his and his eyes watered. He didn't know why; and damnit to hell, he wasn't even supposed to cry. She turned to see his shining eyes, and perched herself gently on the edge of his bed, careful not to touch him or hurt him in any way. His paper white skin gleamed with sweat. His morally perfect brows were dusted with perspiration and wrinkled. His eyes shone with a desperate twinkle. Her warm gaze rested on his contorted face.

"Shhh, Draco. It's alright, I'm here," she whispered in a small cry, as his face scrunched up as if to keep back those tears. Her words teased him into emotion. His face unfolded before her, revealing wrinkles and pain. His stone-ocean colored eyes flooded with saltine tears as one by one they slipped away, the internal dam collapsing with those words. His bandaged hands touched her cheeks, and gave a cry as her own tears seemed to burn them. She leaned and hovered over his immobile body, his upper body nearly plastered in a stiff white cast. His legs shifted restlessly under the thin sheets as her hair fell forward, brushing his face, burning like a brand. She pulled her legs up underneath her body, muscles shifting and cracked, bandaged limbs screaming out in resistance. She pushed a quavering hand forward, gently touching his thin, pallid face with the very edges of her fingertips.

"Oh, God, Draco. You're so cold," she exclaimed, shocked by the icy coldness that greeted her burning fingers. Tears fell, splashing and mingling with his own.

"S-since w-when do you c-care?" he stuttered, eyes blinking and closing before opening and staring her down. Her hand recoiled.

"Don't be silly, Draco. We can't play games right now, you've been attacked."

"I _know_ t-that, you c-crazy w-wench. But w-who s-said I wasn't b-being completely s-serious?" he replied, eyebrow cocking but lowering as he stifled a lung-hacking cough.

Her whole body recoiled to the very edge of the bed. One leg uncurled and her toes touched the floor.

She was silent.

"You got me into this, you know. Amy must've found out I was seeing you on the side, and planned to get me back. You're so much trouble, Weasley."

"Apparently me, hmm. Must you be so damn cold? I come in here, fucking _worried_ about you, and what have you to say? That I'm a 'crazy wench'? _Malfoy_, get _over_ yourself. Perhaps that's what got you into this mess. Your ego. Maybe _that's_ what got her in a tizzy. That you can't take enough time out of kissing your own _ass_ that you can't see who's loving who," she fought, tears leaking from her half-lidded eyes as she slipped all the way off the bed. He immediately ate his words, and reached out with a gauzed hand and grabbed the hem of her hospital robe.

"Weasley, don't leave."

"Don't you dare touch me, _Malfoy. _I've 'bout had enough of your shit. Sod off," she retorted, nose in the air. He growled.

"Shut the hell up, you stupid red haired Weasel. You listen here. You _belong_ to me. See for yourself, you "crazy wench". Don't think that you're on top of the world because I'm lying here, suffering from the wrath of an apparently jealous girlfriend, and chew me out for no goddamn reason. That's just not the way the cookie crumbles, you hear?" he roared in a slightly quiet whisper. His voice rasped greatly as he fought for air. The wheezing grew. She pressed an inhaler to his insipid lips, and squeezed. One puff. Ten seconds. Second puff. She set it on the bedside table and watched as he gasped for air.

"The cookie doesn't always crumble that way, my dear. And if I were you, I'd watch my words. You're running out of air as it is anyway," she smirked. "Since when are we asthmatic?" she grinned, eyebrow puncturing the smooth skin of her forehead. He frowned and scoffed. He continued to wheeze for a moment, and then straightened himself and cleared his throat.

"Since now," he smirked. She almost laughed. But then she didn't. He glared at her, the Death Glare. But somehow his eyes softened. The floorboards shifted outside his bedroom door.

A great silence evolved between them. Her ears began to ring as the blood in them called to her. She wanted to touch him, needed to feel alive, but couldn't. She stepped back.

"I should go," she stated frankly.

"Should you?" he questioned, and she fought to see if it was rhetorical.

"Yes," she answered, unaware of how stupid she was being.

"You really think this is your fault, don't you," he asked, soft eyes stabbing into her thoughts. Sentences wouldn't form in her mind. She shook mentally. Physically. Toyed with the hem of her robe and took another hard step to the door, bandages wrinkling.

She was silent. She refused to answer.

"Don't you?" he probed again, eyes still glaring.

She cleared her throat to try to rid the block of steel.

"Yes," she responded quietly, voice shaking as she realized she had answered.

"Why?" he asked.

"Draco, I have to-"

"Why, Ginny? Why is it your fault?" he prodded, eyes still gleaming.

"Because, Draco!" she cried out frantically. "Because if it weren't for me, you wouldn't be in this mess, trying to make me jealous with that, that _whore,_ and she wouldn't have been jealous of what you _did_ to me, and wouldn't have sliced you to pieces like cake. It's all because of me," she exploded in forced whispers and sobs. She fell to her knees next to his bed, arms folded on the crisp sheets and fiery tendrils falling over her pale white arms and face. His bandaged hand reached out and touched her hair ever so gently, wrapping hot curls around the tips of fingers that protruded.

"It's all right, Ginny, please don't cry. Please?" he pleaded, tears still falling.

She looked up at him with her russet brown eyes drowning in tears. For _him._

"Ginny…" he breathed.

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END CHAPTER…NINE!!! REVIEW!!!!


	10. Chapter Ten

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:Title: Something Innocent

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:Author: Gabrielle Howell a.k.a Gabi217

:Summary: Once more, a Draco/Ginny fic. Ginny's going through some weird times at home, but she won't/can't tell anyone about them. While away at school, she develops a new habit from some of the bad-boys at school: Cutting. But upon seeing a certain sight she wishes to forget, she gets back at Draco and herself with numerous 'slicings' and an outrageous game of Jealousy in all four corners. Draco, on the other hand, has found another way of self-mutalization: drugs. Who but their best friends can find the answers to this silly pastime? What will happen when the results come out the ones that everyone wanted? Will Gryffindor's Beauty and Slytherin's Prince become the Happy People they want to be?

:Disclaimer: I hereby announce, for all of this story, that I own nothing; J.K. Rowling owns it all. I only own my huge, ALMOST-figured-out-plot, of which you might trip on if it was in front of you. :D have a lovely day. __

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Chapter Ten : This Girl

(A/N: I think I'm still approaching a writer's block! Knock on wood! **knock knock S**o whatever I throw at you, please take it without a flame!! LoL! Thank you so much to my reviewers; what could I do without you guys?? Keep reading! And REVIEW! BTW I might add some of the Dream Team! **GINNY'S NAME IS GINEVRA!!!!! Weird, right?? Thank you, Silent Solitude, for telling me that!**)

Months passed by since her outbreak. She was healing, slowly, her best friend always by her side. The SkeleGrow was working great wonders for Draco, who was ready to be himself again. But for Ginny; it wouldn't work. Cracked ribs continued to break as she moved dangerously and restlessly in her sleep, dreaming. She didn't know what was going on.

Madame Pomfrey had made her entrance. After finding the mark on her waist, (which had faded greatly, thank God), Poppy had acted more of a mother or an aunt to Ginny, bustling into the room in the wee hours of the morning, just to calm Ginny's horrid fevers, which could've waited. But the girl was gaining much strength, enough to go to one class again.

Which was English, again. Although she wasn't all that angry about it; but it made her nervous. They were back to The Arts of Poetry again, and as Ginny's assignment had been, you had to write a long poem of something in your life and recite it before the class. But once again, her class consisted of Ravenclaw and Slytherin and Gryffindor, an addition. She sighed as Poppy helped her dress. Her two-page poem lie untouched for a month, the parchment becoming wrinkled and fragile, cracked around the edges like a forever-touched photo of a person you love.

With no help this time, she slowly walked down the dusty, warm hallway. She came to the English and Magical Literature room, once again substituted by some unknown teacher. He looked dead in his chair, face pulled downward and lazy eyes half lidded.

"Ah, Ms. Weasley. Care to join us with a reading?" she stood stock still next to her desk. "_Damn_," she hissed, pulling the parchment from her book bag. She approached the front of the room, and perched on the teacher's desk, muscles cramped and irritated, bones creaking and groaning. She glanced ahead. The Blonde was staring at her, full dark eyes shining. But to the side of the room, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Dean were happily smiling away at what the girl had wrote. Her brow began to perspire slightly. She cleared her throat.

'You have my full attention,' he mouthed silently. Her eyebrows knit together and she sucked in a nervous breath, parchment shaking in her slim, long-nailed fingers.

"My Poem is called 'This Girl', self-written."

Cleared her throat again.

"She's completely foreign, to this place

Where blood is dry and sky is dark

And people stare and whisper loudly

Glaring at her while they walk

She walks alone, running holes in her Vans

Wearing band aids on her wrists and her upper thighs

And still those strangers stare at her

Peculiar looks as they run by

They took her metal, her sharp paradise

Took her paper and lead pencils and pens

Took away all her lifesavers, the things that didn't help her

But secretly, behind their backs, she planned to get them back again

Her blood stained sheets and bathroom floors

Were removed under the penalty of shame

Her parents disgraced her every word

They grimaced at the sound of her name

No one loved that girl of dark

They shunned her from their normal lives

Drinking their tea and reading their papers

Their lives just drifting right on by

One boy with eyes as dark as steel

His lips curled up in constant sneer

Platinum hair gelled down like rock

Made a plan, her kiss to steal

This boy of hurt and faded pain

Bringing glory to his name

Does anything, says everything

Only to get this girl in his game

Her long red hair, his slender hands

Her hips so large, his fingerprints

Her lips of red, his eyes of storm

This so-strange item, give them hints

Their secret breaths, their chants of names

Their pain filled words, and pride of shame

Their shattered hearts, and forlorn pride

Yet he hasn't noticed all her pain

Her, hidden in shadows, outlines of red

Him flying solo, rebellion of pride

Swinging their fists at countless swears

Searching silhouettes, trying to hide

Scars of everything she knew,

Disappearing the more she grew

The countless irritable things he said,

She didn't know how to say, "I love you.", yet

So here they are, one odd pair

So scared and feared by things that aren't there

She'd come to love him; him the same

Yet the things happening; it wasn't fair.

Empty is as empty goes.

They're torn together, no one knows

She suspects but he can't tell

Clutched by hell and all its throws

Does fate still have the upper hand?

Who can tell now, anymore

She can barely walk, barely stand

Her sadness brings her to the floor

She needs answers, tell them true

She still suspects your every move

Do you love her? Or just a lay?

She hates lies; people who aren't true

Her hair of red wine

His dark eyes of gray storms

Her hips and his smirk

Leaving them begging for more

Mercy is mirthless

Honor is pain

She's tired of his lies

He's tired of her games

"You're insatiable," she says.

"You're crazy, though, about me."

He scoffs and pulls her close

"You don't know, my lass, but you'll see."

She wants to know the truth, now

She needs to see the rules

She has to find her place in life

Besides his steady cool

Please, tell her all the answers.

The blueprints of his life

Let her know, let her live, let her shine, let her go

Get her like you captured me.

Captured her in the night."

She slipped off the desk in a rush of tears at his slack face, The Trio's and Dean's faces blank, surprised; emotionless. She left, without a glance back.

* * *

She'd been allowed to go back to her dorm, for a time. So as she was sitting there, house elves and Madame Pomfrey transferring her things, flowers blooming from guests and chocolates, cards, sweets, and gifts lingering on the tiny chest at the foot of her queen size bed. She'd changed into her pajamas, curly hair flowing down her straight shoulders in a waterfall of red wine.

A knock at the door startled her from her softly falling tears, that she hadn't even known were there. Perched on the side of the soft bed, she couldn't look up. She just sniffed, gathering her shattered pride, wondering what she had done, putting herself on the line like that.

"Who is it?" she called. She knew who it was.

She remembered those painfully unemotional looks that were shot; Draco's struck face that had been so hard and cold not moments before she uttered the first line.

"It's Pomfrey, darling. You have a guest. May he see you?"

A quick, vibrating silence as she pondered the thought. Pomfrey wondered if she'd ever heard the girl be so hesitant, so silent upon her knockings.

"Yes," she sighed as the figure entered the doorway. She once again ignored the slick tears rolling down her cheeks, the hard block gathering in her throat. He felt uneasy, framed by her grief. Pomfrey nodding, smiling slyly, closing the door, locking it. He approached her, slowly, warily, confused. She didn't retreat; didn't even move at all.

He watched her, light reflecting off her silky locks in small glimmers. Tears glued to her face, eyes resting blankly on the floor. Hands not fumbling, resting in her lap. Chocolate was practically pooled around her, and on the pillow next to her lay the gift he'd sent, and she hadn't even opened it. He frowned, gently.

"Ginny…" he began, sighing, settling onto the bed beside her. Once again she didn't move.

She snuffled a bit, tears dripping off her chin.

"Aw, come on Ginny-girl, don't cry," he whispered, stroking some of the tears back from her cheeks, hand withdrawing quickly. He'd expected her warm, gentle flesh, but instead was greeted by cold, soft skin. He cocked his head.

"Ginny," he whispered once more, pulling her into his arms. She hardly moved, but as he pulled her closer yet, she relaxed a little bit, arms snaking around his waist. His hand rested on her neck, rubbing it softly. Her chin wobbled, eyes clouded. She sniffled, hiccoughed, and as he studied her further, he knew what was about to happen.

She leaned onto his shoulder, tears pouring from her eyes. She gently hiccoughed and sobbed her story out, all words watered down and blubbering beneath her rounded chin, face blotched and red, sunken eyes swelling gently; not too much, but visibly.

She coughed and sniffled, shook and sobbed and hiccoughed an hour or so away. He held her there, clutched tightly to his chest as she clutched back, hands running up into his hair. She dried her tears gently on a handkerchief that he vaguely recognized as his. He smiled genuinely, and released her just a tiny bit.

She rolled over. He noticed that in that hour or so, his spine had gotten tired, and he'd lowered them down onto the bed. She clutched his gift in her hands, trembling gently.

"What-What possessed you, to get m-me, a g-gift?" she stuttered gently, lips still trembling as she smiled through her tears.

He sighed. "Because, Ginny. Everything did. Me, I-I-….I don't know," he sighed. "I love you, I suppose," he whispered. "But before you open it, I want some answers myself, Ginny. You know I can't do what-what you wrote in that-that thing. You know I can't."

She sighed. Deep. "I know, Draco, but I did a lot for that piece. I poured myself into a mold and _baked. _Hermione, Harry, Ron, and especially Dean were astonished, surprised, I think they felt _bad _for me."

She sniffled again and lit a few candles, aware of the waxing darkness outside, her room growing shadowy. He sighed, and pulled her down.

"I was surprised at you, Gin. When I said you had my attention, I wasn't ready for that. I thought it'd be something more…average, I suppose." he murmured, running his hand through her hair as she sat, perched gently on his lap.

"But you know, you aren't the one who wants answers; who feels lost," he sighed, and she noticed his eyes looked clouded, and he once again smelt sickly sweet.

She inhaled deeply, it was a scent she loved but hated at the same time. It clogged her memory, jogged her senses, made the blood in her veins boil with something different. A rage, or something. Her libido was shaking in her stomach.

His hand wound through her hair. "Lets just forget everything for a few minutes, or something. We'll be alright till then, won't we?"

He smiled an over-the-clouds smile, and as she sat up he tackled her gently onto the bed, lips smashed against hers.

She couldn't move. Did she want to move? She was trapped, enveloped by his body and that scent of his, and she couldn't help but feel mildly aroused. She could only feel his own arousal, his silky lips on her neck, his hot knife hands sweetly invading her, and she gasped.

"Draco…I-I love you….I love you too." she sighed. His lips stopped and his head fell back, staring into her eyes.

"You do?" he gasped.

"Yes," she nodded. "Yes, I do. I love you. Now and forever, Draco."

As she looked into his sky-high orbs of gray and blue, she sighed again.

He was silent, but moments later he was touching her again, lips sliding over her body and hands making her ache.

"Ginny," his mouth moved against her skin, hot, silky breath touching the backs of her ears and shoulders.

"Draco," she groaned back, ripping at his loose clothing.

He gave a husky laugh, eyes smiling at her, soul pouring into her through his eyes as his hands moved across her skin beneath her nightgown.

They moved together for a few minutes, skin touching and breaths steaming the nearby windows.

"Draco?"

He gave a responsive groan.

"What about…what about…" oh God…she couldn't speak as she groaned back.

"Hmm?" he questioned, hands slipping in and out of her thighs, teasing her. "What about whom?"

"What about…about her? Amy?" his hands stopped. He lifted his head from her chest where it rested, staring into the pools of chocolate ice that shone with emotion.

"You said it yourself, Ginevra. _You love me._ And as long as we love each other, nothing can separate us from each other. We are bound," he whispered, placing himself between her legs. "We are bound," he repeated, hand gripping the mark on her right side hip, the handprint. "Bound." She smiled, dazed, and locked her mouth with his, feeling pleasure instead of pain. Yes. Finally, she had someone. They were bound.

* * *

She awoke again, alone. She sighed. When was this going to end? She couldn't help but be confused as she rolled around, searching for her clothing. Her muscles cramped again, ribs cracking, but she ignored it. Dressing herself and making herself presentable, she disappeared into the hallway without a word to anyone where she was going. She came to the 7th stairway, and as if sensing it, she knew Draco was down in a classroom, somewhere. She sighed and was about to step down, when her hand slipped from the railing and something caught her foot, and she was flying forward. Maybe it was her imagination, maybe not. But as she stumbled forward she swore she felt hands on her back, and a tough push. Words echoed in the air, and in her ears, as she rolled down the steps and hit the last, sprawled across the cold marble in a jumbled mess of red, curly hair, black robes, and blood as red as wine.

"He's mine, bitch."

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END CHAPTER…TEN!!!!! HAHAHAHA!!!!!REVIEW NOW!!


	11. Chapter Eleven

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**_:Author: Gabrielle Howell a.k.a Gabi217_**

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**_:Summary: Once more, a Draco/Ginny fic. Ginny's going through some weird times at home, but she won't/can't tell anyone about them. While away at school, she develops a new habit from some of the bad-boys at school: Cutting. But upon seeing a certain sight she wishes to forget, she gets back at Draco and herself with numerous 'slicings' and an outrageous game of Jealousy in all four corners. Draco, on the other hand, has found another way of self-mutalization: drugs. Who but their best friends can find the answers to this silly pastime? What will happen when the results come out the ones that everyone wanted? Will Gryffindor's Beauty and Slytherin's Prince become the Happy People they want to be?_**

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**_Disclaimer: You know the drill!_**

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**Chapter Eleven : Fixed As Good As Broken**

Things were finally brightening up for her. Maybe, just a little bit. Not internally, but externally things were getting better. The SkeleGrow was _finally_ working for her, and all her broken legs and ribs and arms and wrists were healing up faster than you could say, "Ginny is Jell-O."

She was stiff, and she liked the feeling. She felt as if she could move and it didn't hurt, she could walk and her muscles wouldn't cramp and her bones wouldn't click. She felt herself again.

Investigation went on briefly to find Ginny's near-murderer. She hadn't known who did it, hadn't even thought anyone did it, but she figured out from some onlookers than it actually _had_ been someone that pushed her. But she knew one thing. She was plumb dead-ready for revenge on the bitch that did this to her.

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Two to three days passed by before she was allowed to go back to her room again. Draco's gift lay undisturbed on her pillow where she'd laid it nearly a week ago, the wrapping paper still crisp and sparkling as it had been. As she stepped across the threshold, the room's sudden chill struck her immediately as she scrambled over and turned up the heater. Outside in the mid-December sky, snow was thickly falling. The world seemed tilted and solid as she pressed her hand to the icy glass, the chilly feeling invading her body as her digits rested against the stiffness. She smiled at all the happy teenagers and children down in the courtyard, throwing snowballs at each other and magically compelling snow to fall onto teachers when they walked through the doors. She turned away and sighed, and picked up the gift Draco had purchased for her.

She fingered the bow gently before untying it and tearing of the paper quietly. Before her was a plain white box, with green permanent marker it had written on it, '_Ginny_'. She slipped a sharp nail beneath the tape on the four sides of the box and gingerly opened the lid, pushing aside the paper.

She gasped, as she pulled the thing out of the box. In her hands was a white arctic fox-fur cloak with a jewel-encrusted clasp at the neck, and bordered with red fox fur.

She swished it around gently, placing it on her shoulders and shrugging it up to touch her face. She smiled gently at the grand gift he'd bought her and hurried to dress, but stopping mechanically when she turned to the window. Below, she spotted her best friend Nikai flirting with Blaise who was flinging little balls of snow at her, while nearby she saw Draco cradling Amy and dropping her in a pile of snow, messing her hair up and laughing. She wanted to turn away, she should've, but she didn't. And an envious chill split up her spine as their lips met. Her hands were in his hair, his cold, snow-covered hands were moving to her shirt hem. Ginny growled and turned around, dressing quickly and pulling on her gift cloak. On the way down from her dormitory she spotted Harry, who spun around as she cleared her throat gently. He smiled at her and blushed when she looped her arm through his, and the two of them went down into the courtyard.

* * *

They didn't speak. As they walked down to the courtyard's open hallway Ginny's hand fell and locked with Harry's, fingers entwined. He eyed her with his glassy green-apple eyes, and they made a silent agreement. Harry's eyes caught Draco as he swept an over-the-shoulder look in his direction, and smirked. They rounded the corner, self-consciously getting closer, and were out of Draco's sight.

He dropped Amy like a rock. She landed uncomfortably with a "_harrumph_" on the cold ground, mouth open in awe. He stood and brushed himself off, veins boiling as he watched her disappear with _Pothead_ no less, in his gift to her. Was the girl mad? He scrambled quickly over Amy, pushed Blaise roughly out of the way, and charged at her. He came to the wall of the hallway, and stood with his back to it, afraid to look.

The moment they entered the hallway, Ginny had a strange feeling he was about to do something. He turned to her, briefly, her back to the wall.

"Ginny, I…" he started, but never finished.

He leaned close to her, and she realized that if she'd been in her second year, this would've been the moment she'd been waiting for. But it wasn't, it was just Harry. She watched in a fixed stillness as his lips closed in on hers in a quick moment, and replied to his mouth instantly. Tongues touched, and danced as the two fought against their emotions in the hungry, lust-filling kiss.

Her hands ripped at his shirt in an effort to get closer. His own fumbled with her hem as his hands slipped under, and she closed her eyes and arched her back at the icy coolness on her hot skin. She gasped between their mouths and fought him, fought to get rid of that envious feeling in the pit of her stomach. Her own hands finally found the interior of his shirt, her long slender fingers touching the rippling muscles there. He breathed heavily, lifting her up so her legs wrapped around his waist as he pushed her against the wall. Her breath left her in a quick "_Oof"_ but she sucked in another before his mouth conquered hers. Her eyes opened and closed constantly as his tongue touched hers and searched her mouth. But one thought on the back of her head was 'What the _hell_ are you doing?'

* * *

Draco finally spun around. He watched in an angered shock as the two fought for air inside their kiss, hands searching skin and her leg was rubbing his upper thigh as they wrapped around him.

Upon sudden impulse he snarled and lunged at Harry, ripping him off Ginny by the back of his shirt. He socked him in the stomach, kicking him in the groin. Harry staggered for a moment, touched the ground and lunged at him, bringing him over his shoulder and slamming him into the wall. Draco grunted in pain and slid down the bricks, hand on his chest to regain his breath. He bowed his head and lunged off the wall, tackling a panting Harry into the other side. They fought each other madly, Ginny standing there screaming, "Draco! Draco, _stop_! Harry, Harry are you alright? Draco, Goddamnit! _Stop_!" She screeched, throwing herself in the middle of the two. Draco stared at her, his silver-blue eyes seeming to be black. He had a snarl imprinted on his face, blood leaking from his temple while Harry's nose was leaking blood. The two stared madly past her, eyeing and sizing up the opponent. Harry was about to lunge past her until Draco stood and gripped her upper arm tightly, ripping her away from him and pulling her down the rest of the hall.

He ripped her up staircases and down corridors, him growling things beneath his breath as he gripped her arm tightly, her crying tears of pain as she clawed at his fingers, which were firmly wrapped around her flesh. He didn't hear her cries of, "Draco, _stop_, please, please stop. That hurts," she'd whine between sobs and he'd only pull her harder. Twice she tripped and fell and he just kept on walking, her scrambling to get to her feet behind him as she cried out more. "Draco, slow down, _please_? Stop, _stop it_ that **_hurts_**_!" _She'd cry out, and finally she scraped her nails against his skin so hard he gave a cry and snatched his hand away.

"What the _hell_ was that for?!" he cried in an angry rage, rubbing his injured arm. She stepped back a good distance.

"What the hell is _wrong_ with you?!" she screamed, rubbing her arm with a shaking hand.

He grew rigid and stared her down with an icy stare.

"What the hell is wrong with _me_? With **_me_**?!" He growled. "Oh _no, _Mistress Ginevra. The question is not what's wrong with _me_, it's what the hell is wrong with **_you_**." He was shaking in rage.

She couldn't speak. She opened her mouth to say something, twice, but couldn't. He nodded at her in a sarcastic way, then shook his head.

"That's right," he snarled. "Nothing to say on _your_ behalf. Nothing's wrong with _you_, everything's just wrong with _me_, hmm."

She shook in her place. Tears fell from her eyes as he neared her. She'd never seen him like this; she'd never seen him so outraged in her life.

"Why must you be like this?" he murmured, coming close to her and trailing a long finger down from her fuzzy temple to her neck, then down her shirt, over her breast and rested on one of her belt loops. He pulled her swiftly to him, hunger burning in his eyes.

She swallowed, hurt flashing in her own. "I hate it when you do that," she whispered, touching his own face with her fingertips.

"Do what, Ginny?" he murmured, nuzzling her neck. She sighed.

"Be with her," she replied, hand curling around his neck.

"Well it pains the hell out of me too," he growled, clutching her hips tighter. She squeaked softly.

"What does?" she murmured, her long fingers tucking themselves into the front of his pants.

"When you're out with someone else," he muttered, biting her neck softly. She gave a small cry and pulled him closer.

They were silent as Ginny gently caressed the skin just inside Draco's boxers, too far up to touch anything valuable but far enough down that Draco gave a slight moan and bit her neck.

She gasped into his shoulder as she felt his tongue touch her skin and leaned back onto the wall, but pushed herself toward him and away from it not too much later.

"Privacy," she breathed into his ear. He nodded and clutched her waist, spinning her around and guiding her gently down the steps and down a dark corridor. She had her eyes closed, remembering the look on Harry's face as her name slipped off his lips. A tear fell. She sighed and erased it briefly, upon sighting the back door to Draco's room. He murmured the password gently and swept her up into his arms, ascending the few steps and into the dark room. He lit one torch in the corner and secured the closed curtains, so most of the room was in complete darkness. He dumped her unceremoniously on the bed, a sudden rage biting him. He pulled her cloak off and threw it on the floor, giving her a bit of space to kick off her shoes as he did the same.

He pulled her up to him, kneeling together in front of each other on the soft pillow-y bed.

He bit and licked and sucked at her neck while she fumbled hastily with his pants buckle, finally flicking it open and pushing them down his slender, masculine legs.

She tugged at his shirt which she figured she'd neglected and ripped the t-shirt over his tousled blonde head, her fingernails scraping gently over his abdomen, making the muscles there flicker at her touch. He groaned and pushed his hands under her long sleeve black shirt, lifting it up roughly over her face, emitting a grunt from Ginny as she pushed it over her face and hair, curls tousled from the change.

Taking his large, calloused hands and her thin frame to his advantage, he grabbed the back of her thighs and pulled roughly, again releasing an "_oof_" from Ginny and a crack-assed smile from Draco as she landed backward on the bed. He kissed her navel roughly, teeth scraping against the piercing there as he took the charm in his mouth, tugging slightly. She wrapped her legs around his back but he gently removed them as his hands traveled to the clasp, undoing the belt and pulling them off before she could take a breath. He stood back gently and admired her body, before tackling her with some force back into the bed. Clothing was removed immediately, all pieces.

Boxers, bras, and small undergarments were thrown to oblivion as they wrestled themselves strangely for dominance, arms and legs flailing as moans escaped and cries were cast out into the darkness.

It felt good to be inside her. His warmth, his compassion, his _love, _was she. She was far; far different from Amy, or anybody else he'd slept with. She knew all the right things to say, at all the right moments; she knew which way to turn when he kissed her, knew which way to lick when they lay together. And now he was here, on top of her, _inside_ her, again. It felt like he could stay this way forever.

They moved together as if in some practiced motion, bodies touching and fingers running through hair like the jolts down their spine. Words tumbled off each others lips as one wave of ecstasy crashed down on the other as they came. Hands entwined at the top of her head, Draco lay still on top of her, staring into those brown eyes he'd learnt to read so well. They were clouded, staring into space as she breathed heavily, eyelids fluttering as a fatigued smile graced those luscious pink lips.

"Oh, Gin," he murmured, still covering her, still inside her. He stroked the side of her face gently, like a baby, his other hand plastered to the mark that glowed with something strong every time they touched. They fell asleep soundly, Ginny's beautiful red hair fanning out across the white pillows in a cascade of red, Draco's body curled around hers, his hands entwined with hers and settled nicely right before her stomach. "Oh, Gin," he whispered again, right before dozing off once more. "I love you."

* * *

Nikai had tried her best to console Harry, and had a slight feeling it worked. He spent about 20 minutes going on about how Ron and Hermione were always making out or screwing around, leaving him totally alone, and how Ginny had just flew away from them all, gaining a life of her own, and being around her just set his libido on fire…

She laughed inaudibly at this, but he looked up with green eyes that smiled to see her grin. She held the icepack firmly to his nose and he tilted his head back. She watched him softly, black hair falling into her face. With a gentle, calloused hand he reached up, ever so slightly, and brushed it back behind her ear. She smiled gently, and her eyes twinkled as his hand stayed, touching her face. She removed the ice pack gently, gently touching his nose with a feather-light touch of her finger. She leaned over a she did so, inspecting it. But he wasn't paying attention. Ever so slightly he tilted her face down and leaned up, lips touching hers.

From a few feet away, onlookers swore they saw fireworks.

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**NOT THE END! REVIEW!!!**


	12. Chapter Twelve

**_:Title: Something Innocent_**

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**_:Author: Gabrielle L. Howell a.k.a Gabi217_**

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**_:Summary: See Chapter 3 _**

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**_:Disclaimer: You know the drill!_**

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**Chapter Twelve : What Goes 'Round Comes 'Round**

A month had passed by. Draco and Ginny didn't talk, didn't speak, didn't look at each other. Draco ignored Amy physically and mentally, refusing to talk to her, touch her, look at her, or think about her. Ginny hadn't touched another man besides her teachers since her and Draco's last meeting; she winced visibly at the sound of his name.

But he sent her owls constantly. They ranged from, "I love you, why won't you talk to me?" to "What the hell did I do? What's the fuck is wrong!? I haven't done a thing! What the fuck did I do?" It came to the point where she didn't even open them; just packed them away in a box along with his gifts and hid it away.

She cried nightly, especially after his many owls. She sat as far away from him as possible, clinging to the silence and isolation like a second skin.

And all this because of her mother. Two days after the second time she'd slept with Draco, her mother sent an owl. Ginny was too scared to read it, so she burned it instead. But the next morning an owl arrived at her window, red envelope clamped in its beak. Ginny gingerly took the envelope away, only to realize that it was a Howler. The moment she'd lain it on her desk it exploded into a fit of screaming, driving her insane.

"GINEVRA ANNE WEASLEY," it had begun. She was in for it, and she couldn't stand her mother's anger. She clamped her hands firmly over her ears, trying her best to block out the screaming. She heard flashes of, "FILTHY MALFOYS" and "DIRTY WHORE" and on one occasion, "DON'T MAKE ME DISOWN YOU." After the last line of, "Think twice about your nasty mistakes," the envelope disappeared in a flash of fire and scattered bits of paper all over the floor. She locked herself in her room, shaking and crying until morning, only to emerge completely silent and tugging her shirt sleeves roughly down over her wrists.

* * *

Christmas Break eventually came. Ginny didn't want to go home and face her angry mother, and had opted to stay at Hogwarts with Nikai instead.

Draco didn't want to leave Ginny alone at the school, with the fear of her finding someone else within his absence. It was the thought he couldn't bear; and just thinking about it made him recollect the same rage he'd obtained when he found her with Harry.

Harry, on the other hand, had opted to stay with his new girlfriend, who was Ginny's best friend Nikai; who was still silently cursing herself for sleeping with Blaise Zabini.

Blaise stayed just to see what would come out of not being home, and Amy also decided to stay, just to have another chance to murder her objective's lover.

But all in all the whole web was utterly confusing and angrier than ever, not to mention all the pent up sexual frustration.

Since it was the holidays, accompanied by an adult or teacher the students were allowed the frequent visits to Hogsmeade before Christmas. It was on one of these days, however, that all hell broke loose.

Draco had been pent up in his room for a day and a half, the only visitor being Blaise. He'd practically emptied his whole minifridge of Firewhiskey and Butterbeer, his frequent drunken rages becoming the fear of the Slytherins. The day of one particular Hogsmeade trip, however, knocked him into place. Staring from his window he spotted the fire-headed vixen huddled between her best friend and a heavy gray jacket and gray scarf to keep warm. He spotted her instantly; catching the glittering red curls that spilled out from beneath her gray toboggan.

He scrambled around his room, dressing quickly. A thick, soft charcoal sweater, black loose pants, black shiny shoes. He pulled on his heavy black jacket and gray scarf, groping in his dresser for his black toboggan. As he glanced out the window again, it was snowing outside.

Blaise caught him on the way down, following the two girls quietly through the crunching snow. He could hear her friend's laughter ringing out into the snow, but as he watched Ginny's face, he could tell she was faking her happiness. He sighed.

* * *

When they reached Hogsmeade, the girls branched off in the direction of Fred and George's new joke shop, meeting up somewhere along the way with Dorcas and Donata, assumingly Nikai's sisters. Blaise and Draco stood hidden somewhere near the shop, stamping their feet to keep warm.

Blaise puffed out a breath of hot air. He sighed.

"Drake, what are we doing here?" he muttered, rubbing his hands together beneath his gloves.

Draco picked at the fingers of his own, a million thoughts running through his brain.

"What's it look like to you?" he grunted in return. Blaise kept rubbing his hands together and finally said, "Stalking your girlfriend?"

He scoffed. "Pfft, I don't even know what to call her anymore," he huffed quietly.

Blaise stopped and looked at him. "You serious?"

"Of course I'm serious. One minute she was in my bed, right beside me, sleeping. The next, she won't talk to me or return my owls. She won't even look at me, for fuck's sake."

Blaise was quiet.

"Maybe she doesn't love you anymore," he shrugged.

Draco was quiet.

"How do you just not love someone?" he asked.

"How can you sleep with so many people and just ignore them?" Blaise shot back.

He was quiet again.

Luckily, he didn't have to answer. The two girls returned from the shop alone, with complimentary gifts stuffed in their bags from the Weasley Twins.

They chatted away quietly, Nikai talking with her hands ecstatically and Ginny listening on, smiling falsely, bobbing her head every now and again in agreement.

Draco broke out from the side, Blaise nearby. Nikai spun at hearing the outburst, (Blaise tripped over a box), blushing heavily. Ginny lay bound under Draco's accusing stare, eyes pleading to her, _Please, don't be like this._

She didn't say anything. She just spun and was about to walk away, but was stopped by Draco's firm hand on her upper arm.

"What?" she cried, turning and facing him.

"Why aren't you speaking with me anymore?" he growled.

"Because," she replied softly, afraid to answer.

"Because why?" he pleaded in an angry tone. Suddenly, he felt drunk again.

"Because!" she cried out, not wanting to talk to him anymore.

"Because you don't love me anymore?"

"Why are you being so stupid like this?" she sniffled, afraid of the overcoming tears.

"Why won't you answer me?"

She didn't reply.

"Is it that you don't love me? Why the hell not? I love you, you know," his words were hurting.

"You don't know what love _is_!" she shrieked.

"I have every notion of what it is. It's what I feel when I touch you there," he growled, and in a half-drunken stupor reached down and cupped her. She cried out in a mixed cry of anguish and pleasure, toddling on her toes, stilled by his hand.

He removed it immediately, aware of the growing crowd.

"That's not what it is! And how _dare_ you touch me there!" she snarled, right hand flying up to slap him.

His reflex skills came in handy as he reached out easily and caught her hand, gripping it in his own. His thumb touched her palm, gently.

"Then tell me! Tell me, Ginny, what is it? And why won't you speak to me?"

Her eyes watered. "It's against the rules," she murmured inaudibly. He stepped forward, the tiniest step, and touched her forehead with his own.

"What is?" he whispered back, their warm breath pooling in each other's faces.

She opened her closed eyes and stepped back, barely. "This. Us. What we do," she said. He was dumbstruck.

"Why? Why did you let me do what I did and say what I said, if it's against the rules? Why the sudden change?" he interrogated.

She went silent. Her lips moved gently, but he couldn't hear the words. He grew angry at her sudden shyness and shook her.

"Tell me!" he cried. She looked up with wide, horrified eyes at him, sinking to her knees.

"I don't want to be disowned! I got a Howler, alright? My mum sent me a Howler that threatened to disown me if I kept on continuing this with you. She called you a filthy Malfoy and called me a-a-a dirty w-whore." She stuttered. Draco's grip loosened and she fell to her knees softly, snow crunching beneath them, soaking into her jeans. He stood before her, staring at her in disbelief.

"And you-you-you listened?" he asked, voice quiet. She rolled her head around, covering her teary eyes with her hands.

"Yes! I was afraid! I've never lived alone, Draco. And I was scared for you. What if my father told yours? What would he do to you? I was frightened!" she said, giving a watery cry.

"But you listened?"

"God, get it through your thick skull, Draco! I _do_ love you, but I can't risk everything I have to be with you right now! You don't know what I've sacrificed to be with you," she said.

"I _do_ love you…" she whispered in retort to his painful glare.

After a moment or so of his silence, she stood, with the help of Nikai. She brushed the snow off her knees and legs, letting her icy tears fall. She pulled her arm gently but firmly away from her best friend, huddling further into her coat, nose and eyes red.

"I've said what I can, Draco. I tried as hard as I could," she whispered.

She turned and began to walk away, and Draco caught himself staring after her through the thick snow.

"Ginny!" he cried out, after a long silence. "Ginny, I love you! Ginny!"

* * *

Nearby, George and Fred poked their heads out of their shop doors. They'd witnessed it all.

"Should we tell mum, you think?" Fred inquired. George sighed.

"I want to. Poor Gin, she looks so sad. Do you think she really loved the poor bloke?"

Fred shrugged. "I don't know, but she really looked broken. Then again, if I was mum, I'd have gone mental too. After all, you know how much Malfoy's put us through."

"Yeah, but she looks so alone out there. And you don't really believe all that shit mum said, do you? She wouldn't really _disown_ Ginny, would she?"

Fred sighed. "You never know, with mum. You never know. Maybe we should let Gin fight her own battles."

Behind them, Dorcas cleared her throat and straightened her dress. Fred grinned mischievously and reached to hug her. She pawed him away gently and gave him a gruff look. Nearby, Donata appeared and pushed George's lusty hands away.

"Boys," Dorcas greeted, nodding her head.

They nodded back.

"We heard that-"

"-Ginny can't be with Draco anymore-" Donata interrupted conveniently.

"-and that if she does-"

"-your mum will disown her."

"But," Dorcas said, eyeing them both.

"-she really loves Draco-"

"-and it's breaking her heart to be away from him-"

"-so we think, that, to return a favor-"

"-you need to-"

"-talk some sense into your mum." They finished together.

Fred and George eyed them suspiciously, painfully enduring their temperamental eyes.

"And in return?" they questioned together, eyebrows raising.

"Oh, God, do you even need to think that far ahead?" Dorcas giggled. Donata elbowed her in the side roughly.

"We'll do whatever you want," Donata approached.

Fred and George were silent a moment, quietly coming to an agreement.

"Righto. We'll work on talking some sense into mum, but for the meanwhile, I want to show you what you've missed out on," George grinned.

Donata laughed quietly, enveloped in a large hug of his. Dorcas flashed a pearly smile and fell into Fred's embrace, giggling.

"So…since you're our girlfriends again…" George trailed off.

"…how about we look into our deal, a bit?" Fred grinned roguishly.

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Review! lol


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**_:Title: Something Innocent_**

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**_:Author: Gabrielle L. Howell a.k.a Gabi217_**

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**_:Summary: See Chapter 3_**

**_:Disclaimer: You know the drill!_**__

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**Chapter Thirteen : Slipping Through My Fingers**

Three days passed. Ginny had no choice but to endure them painfully, locked away in her room or bathroom and sniffling her life away. Nikai visited often, trying hard to fit the consoling portion of her friend into her new schedule with Harry. It didn't bother Ginny, though. Draco's owls stopped coming completely, his gifts left an absence in her heart. She slept; that's all she felt she had time for. She bought gifts, yes; for her brothers and Harry and the Gabriellini sisters, and her parents. She even bought one for Draco; but told no one about it. She'd purchased it back sometime in November, heart pounding as her eyes shifted from side to side to see whether someone would notice.

But she hid it. She hid everything. To everyone else she was just Ginny. She was plain, she was nothing different than all the other innocent people out there. Except she wasn't a virgin, thanks to Draco Malfoy; wasn't innocent, and had a heart that was broken beyond repair. So far, to her, the world had become one fucked up universe, one that she didn't want to be part of.

She sat at the window, watching the world shift around her. Amidst the night she felt hands upon her, breath on her skin; and as her eyes snapped open the only memory of it were soft, stormy eyes.

The castle was closed up now. Blizzards appeared from nowhere, swarming around the thick stonewalls of the castle. Hogsmeade was completely covered; students were cautioned and scolded for leaving the castle. No trips were made anywhere; students were locked inside the school until they passed. Dumbledore had sighed and mentioned something about a snowed-in Christmas.

Amy and Blaise visited Draco on a regular basis. Amy, to try to seduce him constantly…Blaise, to see how everything was going in his stubborn life. He holed himself up in his sweet, smoky room…consoled by bottles and bottles of whiskey and butterbeer, and a stash of something he'd collected from the 7th floor.

His room smelled serenely of smoke; the atmosphere foggy as if in a mist. He curled up on his bed, window barely cracked on the other side of the room; eyes red and mouth barely breathing, hair mussed and muscles sore.

He did miss her. He truly did; he'd bought her a Christmas present but hadn't told anyone. He'd hid it in his closet, the very top shelf. But nowadays, he doubted if he'd even get to give it to her.

* * *

Fred and George tried their hardest to sever the rope that tied Ginny to her mother's rules. They came home about a day after the whole scene with their little sister in the road…and what their mother said, they didn't like.

"You know, Mum, you really should give Ginny some freedom," Fred approached, swallowing a large bite of waffle. Molly Weasley's smile fell off her face like a penny dropped in a jar.

"What?" Molly sniffed, as if she had no knowledge whatsoever of what they were talking about.

"You know," George rolled his eyes. "You sent Gin a Howler that threatened to disown her; and called Malfoy filthy and called her a dirty whore," George muttered, shoving a slice of waffle in his mouth. Molly's face contorted into a look partial of anger and the other of disgust.

"You know how I feel about those Malfoys, George. They're stupid, nasty people who like to control other people from sheer boredom. You know how they are, and I will not have my only daughter involved in some rendezvous with that stupid son of a bitch Draco Malfoy," Molly growled, face pulled into a look of hatred. Fred's mouth fell open slightly, bits of waffle falling from his parted lips, at hearing what his mother had said. _Stupid son of a bitch._ He didn't know whether to swallow and continue or laugh and give up. He did neither, instead swallowing the waffle and nodding, while George sat about trying not to laugh.

"But Mum, you know what love is, right? Ginny loves the stupid bloke. She said it herself, and he said it too. He's not just a stubborn person, to her, he's a whole different landscape! You've got to give him a chance," Fred protested, cutting a piece of waffle with his fork, avoiding his mother's eyes.

"Fredrick!" she growled, coming close to his face. "The answer will, and always be no. I will not have Ginevra prowling around and being sexually involved with that idiot! There should be no reason to try to persuade me otherwise, boys, because once I've made a decision, I've made a decision!"

Bill Weasley entered the room from the living room, syrup-marked plate in his hand. His tan, muscular face was pulled into a look of hate, anger and sadness, and as he dropped his plate into the filled sink he turned to face his mother, arms at his sides, eyes unconsciously narrowing.

"Mother, If I do remember right, your mother told you that you weren't to fall in love with father, you were supposed to leave him alone. _Supposed _to never see him again…never be with him again…and now you're doing this same thing to Ginny, when you've done gone and had your fun living a happy life? You got what you wanted by breaking the rules, and your doing the same thing, setting the same rules, because you think it's to make your daughter happy?" he said, shaking his head.

Mrs. Weasley began to shake, slightly. "But that was then. This is-"

"-Wrong," Bill said, cutting her off. "It's wrong. If Ginny's in love, than she's in love! If she falls, she's strong enough to pick herself back up no matter what happens. But you can't just march in and change her life before she's even had a chance to live it! It's horrible! It's wrong! Are you selfish?" he questioned, large hand on the table and fingers tap-tap-tapping away.

Molly shuddered and her voice shook. "Bill…" she started, closing her eyes.

"Do you think you're being vindicate? Is that it? You think you're being right by correcting your mistakes in her life ahead of time, keeping her from what she's destined for?"

"She's not destined for that boy," Molly spat. Bill glared, still tapping.

"But she's destined for love, and that's what he's giving her, Mum. She loves what she's doing, loves who she's with, loves to be enveloped in a freedom that she owns! Now, with that stupid letter, she doesn't have anything but a few tears and-"

"And what?" Molly questioned, eyes narrowing. Bill swallowed noisily.

"And a few nosey siblings and parents. I wish you'd make a right decision in your life, instead of trying to right hers and screwing it all up. I wish you'd make up your mind to let her live than let her die," Bill murmured. His eyes were soft, and faraway. Molly's mouth fell open once, and snapped shut. Her face suddenly looked tired, wrinkles around her eyes. She dropped the frying pan she was holding in her hand into the sink with a loud _splash_, and turned to face the twins, hands drying on her apron.

"You agree with him, don't you," she sighed. Fred and George cast a glance at each other, nodding.

"Yes, Mum, we kind of do," George muttered. Fred heaved a sigh and dropped his fork, where it clattered noisily on the china.

"It's not that we don't love you, Mum. It's just that…Ginny needs to live her own life, that's all," Fred said, nodding.

"Well…I suppose…I suppose I'll have to think on it. But do you really think that Malfoy bloke's really the type for her? Does he really love her?" she murmured, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

George shrugged, and Fred's face turned up in a smile. "He proclaimed it," he grinned. George rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Mum, he really does love her. Give him a chance, would you? Not all Malfoy's are rotten apples," he muttered.

Molly sighed again and nodded, pushing herself up out of her chair. "If-If you think that's what's best for her, then I suppose...oh, all you boys give me such a hard time sometimes…" she garbled, shuffling out of the kitchen.

"Thanks, Bill," George nodded toward his older brother, who just shrugged and left the kitchen.

Fred and George stood up and grinned devilishly at each other, nodding. "Better inform the girls, we should," Fred smirked. George laughed and socked him in the shoulder, but both raced to their rooms.

* * *

She was humming to herself, too softly to be heard, staring at the wall at the foot of her bed. The song sounded oddly familiar to Nikai, who was lounging at the end of her bed, reading The Quibbler.

Without any warning at all, Ginny started to sing. Softly, so soft, only Nikai could hear.

"_Vindicated_

_I am selfish, I am wrong_

_I am right, I swear I'm right_

_I swear I knew it all along _

_And I am flawed_

_But I am cleaning up so well_

_I am seeing in me now _

_The things you swore you saw yourself..." _

Nikai grunted in response. "Don't be like that, Gin. Things will get better, I promise. They always do," she murmured, patting her friend's leg sympathetically. Ginny only barely stirred, brushing her fingertips along her friend's hand, half nodding, red unkempt curls falling into her eyes. Nikai tucked them behind her ear, smiling gently. "They always do," she repeated.

* * *

"Smile," she commanded. He grunted angrily and shoved her away gently.

"Smile," she said again. He turned his eyes up to the heavens and rolled away, hand lightly scratching his chest.

"Damnit Draco, please smile," she pleaded. He fixed his face into a snarl and rolled back to her harshly, bumping her off the bed.

"If I don't want to smile, _Amelia_, I won't smile. Now will you stop pursuing the situation and leave me the fuck _alone_?" he growled, his eyes flashing from black to silver.

She stood still for a moment, fixing her face into a sneer. "It's _her_, isn't it? That stupid _Weasley_ girl. That dumbassed, freckle faced, stupid little whore of a-"

_"SHUT UP!" _he roared, throwing himself off the bed and in her direction. "Just _SHUT UP_!"

He was about to lunge at her, angry, watching as she scrambled backwards toward the door. But just when his hands were about to touch her neck, something was banging furiously at the window.

_"Damnit," _he growled, abandoning the shaking brunette and approaching the window. What seemed to be a tiny, fluttering bird was hovering before his window, twitching and going through a series of spasms as he opened the casement. It flew to him and finally landed in his hand after several failed attempts of getting through the window, panting and warily shaking his leg for Draco to remove the envelope tied neatly to it. He pulled the letter off and set the owl on the sill, letting it leave whenever it felt replenished. He collapsed onto his bed, Amy's still-frightened gaze falling on the envelope. It was unwritten on, and he was suddenly curious as to who it was from.

As he pulled out the folded parchment, a quick breath escaped from his parted lips.

His eyes scanned the seal on the letter. His eyes grew large as he broke it and unfolded the letter, serious gray eyes as large as dinner plates.

Amy scoffed; sneer still firmly planted on her lips. "It's from those Weasley's, isn't it. That's all you care about these days. _Weasels_ this and _Weasels_ that. What about _me?_ I thought _I_ was a big part of your life too, Draco?" she whined.

He rolled his eyes at her and let them land on the paper, black ink scrawled neatly across the letter. His heart began to quicken.

* * *

_Dear Mr. Malfoy,_

_ I am not pleased to hear that my daughter has fallen in love with my family's soul-enemy's son. This was not the best news in my life, nor will it ever be. But I have heard, courtesy of my sons, that she is involved with you, and that you love her. Is this true? Have my sons deceived me? They have bickered at me for the last two days at how much I am making my daughter's life miserable. But you see, I wish that she would go and find a better life, one that suits her, that doesn't make her cry. You are the exact opposite, I have thought. But my sons have told me I am not vindicate in the least. She does love you, or so it seems, and you have been her remedy. My daughter has problems, that through you she has been able to solve temporarily. I am starting to see that there is a right puzzle piece in the rendezvous my daughter and yourself take part in. But as I lend you a tiny piece of my trust, you must promise me one soul thing: That you will not break her heart, or give her a horrible reputation. She's a good girl, I know, and she has been through so much. So please do not make her life harder than it already is, as I will be watching you..._

_ Take care of Ginevra for me, and give her my love. I grant you permission to see my daughter. Have a lovely day, and don't do anything stupid…_

_ Sincerely,_

_ Molly Weasley_

* * *

Was this some joke?

His heart was racing, his thoughts ecstatic. _He was allowed to see her!_ This had to be the best news of the holiday!

Without many thoughts he jumped up, pulling on a pair of charcoal pants and a white sweater, pulling on his black boots. Amy stood in the background, shaking in the cold air.

"Draco? Draco, are you going to see that stupid Weasley bitch?" she growled.

"Why yes, Amy, I am going to see Ginny. But she is not so much of a bitch as you are, I'm afraid. Please, do me this favor and get your skinny, sluttish ass _out_ of my room, and into someone else's sack, please," he snarled, smirking viciously. Flames flickered in her eyes as she pulled on her coat, slipping into her shoes.

"I hope you and that nasty Weasel go off and have a _horrible_ life," she shrieked, running down the hallway. He only smirked and closed and locked his door, setting off down the hallway at a spectacular speed, clutching the letter tightly in his pocket.

It would be a cold day in hell when someone came between him and Ginny.

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**YOU KNOW IT! lol Review please, and This song in this chapter does not belong to moi...it is Dashboard Confessionals lyrics for the song 'Vindicated', and some of you would know that if you read 'Stings Like Fire'...its my favorite song XD Anyway, review! **


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**_:Title: Something Innocent_**

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**_:Author: Gabrielle L. Howell aka Gabi217_**

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**_:Summary: See Chapter 3_**

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**_:Disclaimer: You Know The Drill!_**

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**Chapter Fourteen : _Cold As Ice_**

Forbidden tears fell out the corners of Amelia's eyes as she ran down the hallway. _Stupid Gryffindor bitch!_ Her mind snarled, plummeting her into a pit of endless hate and anger. _Getting in the way. I'll show her, I will!_ She pulled her jacket further around her, coming to the Great Hall. Nikai Gabbriellini sauntered slowly up the stairs, a tray full of food. Amy snarled at her, distracting her while she slowly dropped something into the goblet from a tiny vial. She looked her up and down disgustedly, and then disappeared down the hallway. On her way, a hand caught her upper arm. She spun around quickly, and came face-to-face with Blaise Zabini. With his first two fingers, he tucked messy brown curls behind her ears, gently pulling her close. His breath touched her lips, and she closed her eyes.

"Tell me, Amy," he breathed, caressing her neck with his right hand, held close by his left hand that rested on her hip. "Tell me, what do I have to do, to get a girl like you, to fall for a guy like me? Hmm?" he whispered, leaning in and touching his lips to the spot just below her ears. Her legs went numb, and she leant against him.

"If you keep doing that to me, you'll have me following you around for weeks," she responded, giving off a breathy laugh. He tucked her in closer to his side and walked her up the steps, finally gaining his prize from the throws of her enemies.

* * *

Ginny rolled across her bed aimlessly. She knew that if she kept rolling, she'd eventually fall to the floor, which was what she supposed she was trying to do. Nikai had entered not long ago, and she'd downed all the food with just a few sips of pumpkin juice, but for some reason, the liquid tasted off…

A large, slamming knock startled her. She jumped up, in a somewhat high daze, throwing herself off the side of the bed with a squeak and a loud _Oof_. Nikai collapsed in a fit of giggles and tried her best to compose herself, opening the door. Draco Malfoy stood at the threshold, eyes red and wary and clothing loose around him. In his hand, he held a piece of parchment. A sparkle gleamed vaguely in his eyes as they darted around the dorm. Across the room, Ginny's head shot up from the floor, eyes narrowed; trying hard to focus on whoever it was at her door. With a startled gasp and shrill cry she said, "Draco? Draco, is that you?"

With gentle force he pushed Nikai out of the way, charging for the bed. Ginny scrambled across the floor beside it, searching for the pajama bottoms she'd kicked off sometime that morning. She was so embarrassed, crawling around on her bedroom floor in nothing but a white tank top and cool blue undies. As she pulled them on, she muttered,

"Draco, you can't be here, and you know it. My mother said-"

"Your mother sent me an owl this morning," he said, shaking the parchment in her face as he approached. She stood straight and tall, red curls messily falling around her shoulders. She tried her best, her very best, to cover her red, scarred wrists behind her back.

He noticed the flustered movement. He dropped the parchment on her bed, muttering his story as he tried to grab her hands.

"Your mum-wait, let me see…your mum, she sent me an owl. She said I could see you, I can see you! Look at the parchment yourself, if you don't believe me. Ginny, are you listening? What are you hiding? Let me see your hands. Let me-Ginny, let me see!" he growled, and grabbed her forearm. She closed her eyes tight as he grabbed at her hand, and flipped it over. His eyes widened, fast at first, and then slower. Nikai stood in the corner and gave a faint gasp, even though she'd known about it the whole time. She eased herself back into the darkness, ready to get help any time it was needed.

"Draco, wait, I can ex-" she started, but a gruesome look from him stopped her.

"Explain what, Ginny? Explain how you cut yourself? Does it feel good to you? You're hurting yourself! It's my fault, isn't it?" he said, pain winding in his voice. She shook her head wildly, red hair flying.

"No! No, Draco, it's not your fault. It's mine! When I'm with you…" she trailed off. He stood, awaiting her sentence.

"When I'm with you, I'm happy. I'm far from the world, and I like that. But when I see her, with you, or I can't see you anymore, it hurts. It hurts so badly," she said, and collapsed onto the bed out of sudden weakness. She made a feeble attempt to change the subject.

"So you're allowed to see me?" she murmured, hoping he'd forget it. But he didn't.

"Ginny, you cut yourself! You bleed, that's horrible! That's like…like…" he trailed off too, and looked at her. "How long?" he questioned. But she didn't answer. Her hand turned cold in his, and she slipped it away, falling back onto the bed, clutching her stomach.

"Ginny? Ginny, are you alright?" he murmured, looking over at her. She made no response, so he clambered on top of her, straddling her waist gently. Her brown eyes had a slightly glossy look to them, and the air that fell from her lungs after every two seconds was cold. Almost _ice_. Her face suddenly had a tint of blue and her body turned cold.

"Ginny?" he cried out loudly in alarm. "Ginny, wake up? Gin? What's going on?" she again gave no response. Without turning his head, he pointed at Nikai.

"Go! Go get help! Get someone, anyone! Just get help!" he ordered. She was gone in seconds.

"Ginny!" he cried out, curling himself around her cold body. "Wake up, please? I love you, I'm not mad about your problem, and I _love_ you," he whispered, and attempted to wrap her up in her comforter. The door flew open, and in came Hermione, Harry, and Ron. Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and Nikai gave a sheepish shrug.

"Whatever, as long as it's help. Granger, get over here, and you people _help_ me," he forced, pulling the heavy body into his lap. Hermione's stricken, pale face took a little color and she approached Ginny's body, hand on her cold forehead. She jerked it back, as if burnt, and examined her body with her eyes.

"My God," she muttered. "She's like ice, or something." Ron, from behind, said, "My sister's turned to _ice_?!" Draco rolled his eyes and mumbled something about _the bloody trio stating the obvious_. He sucked in a frustrated breath and pulled her up in his arms.

"Look, let's get her to the Infirmary, alright? Please? Can you help me do that?" he pleaded, hugging Ginny's cold body tightly to his chest. Nikai reached for Harry's hand, who looked on in complete shock.

Hermione just nodded and pulled open the door, leading the way. Draco followed, slightly panicking, while gently whispering in her ear.

"It's alright, Gin, we're getting you help. Just stay with us. Keep breathing," he murmured. He swore that if someone hadn't stepped on his toes, he'd have started to cry bye then.

They appeared at the Infirmary doors less than 5 minutes afterward, tucking Ginny deep into a bed, surrounded by blankets. Draco stood over her bed, tears glistening in his eyes. Poppy stood just above him, examining her from afar.

"Ah, I see," she said, in a serious tone. Her expression was grave, and pitiful eyes landed on Draco.

"You see what?" Draco cried, hating that expression. Madame Pomfrey gave a deep sigh.

"I see, that she's cold. And I've only seen these symptoms a few times in my life. The blue tint, the cold breath. She's suffering, Mr. Malfoy, from a self-battle. By the looks of it, in her mind, she thinks she's alone, which makes her feel cold and deserted. She doesn't know what's going on here on the outside; she can only see what's there on the inside. It takes a lot to solve these kinds of problems," she sighed.

Draco looked up at her with wide, pleading eyes.

"How can it be solved?"

Pomfrey was silent against his glare. Her eyes looked woeful, and her hands slipped into her apron pockets.

"You're the one she loves, then?" she asked, and in all the sudden sadness there was a glint in her eye. He found himself nodding, slowly.

"Yes. I'm the one she loves," he repeated, softly. She nodded, and a slight smile twitched at her lips.

"You must walk her dreams, then, Mr. Malfoy. Take heed that this is not safe, nor is it _simple_. You must find her inside her thoughts and convince her that she's not alone. Convince her that she's _loved_."

Draco swallowed. His face began to blanch, and he had a strange, empty feeling in his stomach. Unconsciously he nodded, head bobbing up and down.

"Okay," he answered after awhile. "I'll do it."

With much flustering and nervousness, Madame Pomfrey laid him out on a bed nearby Ginny's. She stood over him, seriousness writ on her face. She looked at him, eyes slowly peering into his, and said, "Only you have what it takes to wake her up, Draco. Only you."

Before he could reply she sprinkled something over his head, and he was out cold.

* * *

_Only you have what it takes to wake her up, Draco. Only you._

He opened his eyes. His head throbbed, slowly, and his body thrummed with an energy he didn't think was normal. As he looked around, he saw several doors in a round room. One was cracked, a steady light flowing from it. He shivered and as his breath escaped from his mouth, it clouded around his face. It was deathly cold inside her head.

Another door on the other side squeaked, and as he listened he heard loud laughing like a crowd that's seen something hilarious. As he approached the door, he saw the dimly enchanted sky of the Great Hall, and all the students inside. As he looked from table to table, he saw himself. In the corner, sandwiched between Crabbe and Goyle, he was smirking nastily, but a regretful glint shone in his eyes. The whole crowd of students were collapsing over one another in the hilariousness of it all. And with a slight wince, he noticed why.

Standing before the Great Doors, a red head stood clutching her clothing to herself, a horrified look on her face. Potter and The Sidekick stood over to the side, one's face stricken and the other willing himself not to break out into laughter. Granger stood to the side, mouth open in a slight 'O', staring disbelievingly at Ginny. And then he remembered it all quite clearly. Her nutcase brother had gone ballistic because she'd gotten study tips from Draco himself, after bumping into him in the library one afternoon. He remembered he'd advanced on her, sandwiching her between the wall and himself. She'd only blushed, pushed him away, and disappeared smoothly down the hallway. Her brother must've taken things the wrong way, and embarrassed her in front of the entire school, ripping her skirt and shirt down the left side. As soon as she'd stood up to leave, her articles of clothing simply fell off of her, revealing her body to the entire crowd. That, he remembered, was the day he learned that Weaselette was much more than she seemed.

Scenes changed swiftly, and he was brought to a memory that made him hurt inside. He knew exactly which day it was as soon as he saw the scenery and felt the air; it was the time he was angry, and he vented it all out on her.

She was there, standing near the oak tree he remembered yelling at her from. Long red hair was flapping in the breeze, and she was crying. He'd been so selfish, so fucking selfish…

His figure stalked angrily from the castle doors. He knew exactly what was coming at her, and he regretted every bit of it.

"Weasley," he'd snarled. Her tear-streaked face jerked up, hands trying their hardest to wipe them all away.

"What the hell do you want, Malfoy?" she'd answered, composing herself as she stood and clutched the bark. His snarl turned lethal, and his fists curled at his thighs.

"You know what I want. I want to know why, Weasley. Why is it always _Potter_? 'Potter _this_ and Potter _that_.' No _wonder_ he fucking hates your guts. You fawn over him _all day_!" He could tell by his voice that he was jealous. Anger and sadness flashed in her eyes.

"Well why _not?!_" she shrieked. "Everyone else treats me like _shit_, you hear? _Shit._ I'm a nothing to them, and they'd say so if you asked them. I'm _nothing._ Just shit," she answered him in a shaky voice. His fists balled again, clenching and unclenching. He approached her evenly, and he watched her press herself back against the tree. He wondered if she'd been afraid.

"I don't think you're shit, Weasel. You're pretty when you cry, too. I don't know why they treat you like that; you're so hot…they probably can't see that," he said, and a falsely angelic face slipped onto his features. Her lips trembled and she slid sideways, contemplating the different ways to get out as he drew closer.

"D-Draco," she stuttered, almost cried, trying to back away. But her tiny plea went unheeded, and he came even closer, hands holding her back against the tree. But he didn't want to see any more of it; he didn't want to see what he had done. He turned and ran to the door, pushing himself through it and slamming it hard. He was in the round room again, and a dim light overhead cast a glow on a figure in the corner. His breath pooled around his face once more, and he stood watching.

The door on the other side that had been cracked, now stood open a little wider. Curiosity over swept him as he walked cautiously toward it, after catching a glint of red hair.

It was cold in here too, and as he passed over the threshold he saw that the door here was larger than all the others, and framed in gold. He stepped through lightly, as if not wanting to disturb whatever it was inside it, and looked around.

There was a long hallway. On either side of the walls there were faces, photos of family and friends she found very dear to her. As he walked along the hallways, he saw many pictures of people he found familiar, or people he knew were family members. He passed her mother's barely smiling face, her father's, all 6 of her brothers' faces, Granger's beaming face, Harry's next to that. Although his face had a large slash through it, as though someone had ran by with a knife and cut his face apart. He shuttered, and the slashed face only grimaced back.

As he walked he looked left and right, nodding appreciatively at the family members that gave him strange looks. He passed Colin and Dennis Creevey, Seamus Finnegan, Neville Longbottom, and many other familiar faces, like Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell, Dorcas and Donata Gabbriellini, Nikai Gabbriellini, but was almost surprised to see Blaise and Amy's faces up on the wall. But as he walked farther in, the hallway grew dim. At the end of the hallway, he saw another flash of red hair. As he rounded a corner, he saw her standing before a portrait of himself.

His face was well defined, and as he looked closer he saw the things she'd put hard work into. His eyes gleamed gently and mysteriously, and a small tuft of platinum hair was almost hanging gently in his eyes. His lips were smiling, and his face contained a large amount of happiness. He wondered if that was the way she saw him everyday, but he wondered even more and panicked slightly when her slim, pale arms reached up and pulled it off its hook, tears drifting down her cheeks. She stood gently from her kneeling point, and turning, walked right past him, oblivious to his presence. But as he followed her around the corner, the portrait disappeared.

She stood there, gazing at him in wonder, face puzzled and sad. He approached her, and she took a gentle step backwards, as he opened his mouth to speak.

"Ginny," he murmured, and for an odd reason longed to touch her hair. Her soft brown eyes looked up, as if seeing him for the first time.

"Draco?" she inquired, craning her neck to look up into his face. She was still in her pajamas, and her hair was slightly frizzy. He wanted to laugh, and tell himself this was all a big stupid dream.

"It's me, Gin. What are you doing here? Why's it so cold?" he asked, eyes pleading. She scowled, and looked up at him.

"You know exactly what happened, Draco Malfoy, and you're not going to play stupid like that to me. My m-mother won't let me see you anymore, and so we've drifted like this. She let me drift out here, all by myself, and it's so alone…" her voice grew soft and trailed away. He took a step close to her, and tried to touch her face. She only swatted his hand away, scowling more.

"Ginny, stop, I'm here to save you," he murmured, a desperate tone in his voice. She looked up at him, half angry.

"Pfft! Save me? Save _me_? I'm long past being able to be saved, Draco. Look at me. I'm in here, trapped in my own fucking mind, driving myself insane. Without food, without water, with _you_," she said, adding the last part softly. He approached her once more, and a finger touched her face. Her skin felt cold as ice against his hand.

"Ginny, let me touch you! You're so cold, I've never seen you like this," he said, eyes boring into hers. Her scowl turned deep and she turned on him with narrow eyes.

"You've never seen me like what? Without _Potter_? Hmm? What do you _see_, Draco? I'm alone, I can't be _near_ you! You're making things worse! Nothing can save me, and I've already tried to get out. I _can't_," she muttered, and tears fell down her cheeks again. They crystallized into tiny diamonds of ice and cracked off her face, shattering on the floor. He reached up again and touched her lips, which were blue. He wanted to hold her, but instead reached his hand back and stuffed them in his coat pocket. "I just can't," she repeated.

With a sudden shock, he realized he still had a small thing like rolled paper in his pocket, and a lighter. Taking them out and placing the thing to his lips, he lit it, inhaling deeply. He closed his eyes and faught against the hazy current from the drug that invaded his mind. She only stared on, a shocked look on her face, as he inhaled and exhaled deeply. He looked over at her, warily, and touched her face. She barely noticed, and only stared on at the joint between his lips. With one hand he quickly pulled it away and pressed it between her lips, watching her close her eyes and inhale.

When she opened them, after a few more drags, the world seemed in a haze. She looked up at him, smiling dopily. He smiled back just the same, and cupped her face in his hands. She felt like she was being hypnotized; and in a way, she was.

"Ginny?" his voice called out, cutting through the thick smoke in her mind.

"Hmm?" she replied airily, watching the colors of the walls spin before her eyes.

"Ginny, listen to me. I love you, alright?" he laughed, as if it were funny, as if it were suddenly hilarious. A goofy grin split out across her face.

"You do?" she asked, head bobbing side to side. He smiled again.

"Yes. I love you, your mum loves you, everybody loves you! Especially me, though," he added, nodding. She almost laughed, and he felt the skin beneath his fingers thaw at his words.

"I love you too, Draco," she said, sighing. "I'm so wrong, all the time. People just leave me, you know? Like when your pet dies, it makes you feel so sad, you know? But I love you," she said, smiling more.

"I miss you, come back, ok? Come back with me. We can make this alright, we can finish this," he said. "You aren't alone, ok? I'm right here; I'll always be beside you. Right here," he repeated, and picked up her hand and held it to her chest, taking her other hand and putting it over his heart. "Right here, I'm always right here, no matter what," he repeated again. She smiled, and her skin turned warm beneath his fingers.

He pulled her into his arms, letting the sudden warmth that coursed through his body radiate into hers. After a few moments she was snoozing gently inside his arms, and he closed his eyes.

_Only you have what it takes to wake her up, Draco. Only you._

* * *

Her eyes snapped open and she sucked in a deep breath like a gasp, as if she'd been held under water. She rubbed her upper arms desperately beneath the pillows, teeth chattering and goose bumps appearing everywhere. Draco came alive next, gasping for breath and eyes almost bloodshot. Even through their sudden chill they grinned goofily, eyes looking far away. Draco pulled back the blankets of his bed and slipped in beside her, wrapping his arms around her. "Right here," he muttered again, and slipped his hand over her heart. She sucked in a deep breath and huddled into his arms, snuggling against his chest.

"Right here," she repeated, barely, and drifted into a gentle sleep. He couldn't help but smile, and drift away with her.

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**RIGHTO! Follow up comes next, so stay tuned for the final chapter of: dun dun dun DUUUUN Something Innocent! LoL **

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	15. Chapter Fifteen

**_:Title: Something Innocent_**

**_:Author: Gabrielle L. Howell aka Gabi217_**

**_:Summary: See Chapter 3_**

**_:Disclaimer: You Know The Drill!_**

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**Chapter Fifteen :** _Black Dress For The Lady_

"These go," Ginny sighed, plucking a pack of fresh Muggle Marlboro cigarettes from his bedside table, tossing them into a small-but-growing pile on the floor.

He gave a muddled response.

"These too," she said, wrinkling her nose and dropping some snack-size baggies of something unhealthy and plant-like and tossed those too, along with a few slim square sheets of white paper. He said nothing, only throwing her a plain, regretful look. She rose a plucked eyebrow.

"We talked about this already, Draco."

He nodded. They had indeed.

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She got out of the Infirmary about 3 days after her little incident, and they moved in together. For company, he said. Her mother didn't know. 

He made her throw away her razorblades. All harmful objects were thrown in a cardboard box and burned, under the watchful eye of Draco and Professor Snape, who knew. Who had known all along. Who had waited for the final blow into seriousness. Gryffindor or not, self-mutilation wasn't healthy. And no hard-working A student of his would screw themselves up for life. It wasn't done in his book.

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Amy and Blaise hooked up, eventually. Days passed by between them. Full moons reappeared. Murder stories spilled across the school, and had prank-prone first years sneaking into the girls' bathrooms and writing _red rum_ across walls in blood-colored paste. Frightened people didn't go to class. Fur bits appeared, stuck in bed canopies and carpets. People vanished. Scratch marks littered doors. A roommate stayed awake, waiting and watching for Blaise Zabini's betrothed. Slytherins shut their mouths against questioning. But only Draco knew the truth, from experience. He turned her in, two days after the latest murder. She was gone in the blink of an eye; back to France, Blaise said. His parents called off their marriage plans. The school lived in peace, for awhile.

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"Uughh, Draco," she shivered, turning her head as she slowly pulled a jar of something nasty and slimy crawling up the sides of the glass. His mouth twitched, and split into a grin as he took it from her and put it on a top shelf. She gave it an irritated look and turned back to her raid, pushing and shoving through the contents of his cupboards and bureau drawers. Once or twice she came up giggling, with a pair of silk red or blue boxers. Once, she even came up with a love letter she refused to let him take away until she read through it dramatically. She laughed between lines as she glanced into his blushing face, but blanched in silence when he murmured it was written for _her_, and stuffed it into his pocket.

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Narcissa Malfoy visited her son's favorite new woman in frequency. Tea dates and luncheons took place in the suite reserved for her, conveniently placed right next to her son's quarters. Love hid, during those visits. Romance was quiet, and plagued with that discretion that had Ginny smuggling giggles in the dark. Even Draco fed up a smile once or twice, leading her down dank hallways into forbidden rooms and hidden chambers. _Nothing was ever dull, _she thought once, _when beneath his eyes. _But it wasn't only _his_ mother that had something to say from time to time. 

Molly Weasley nearly scolded the school deaf when she heard of what had happened to her only daughter, not to mention her youngest child. She sternly insisted the school's headpersons and faculty watched out for her little girl, and forbade any sharp utensils such as razorblades and knives except at dinner. And they had to be watched, even then. She slapped her daughter's wrist and scolded her as well, going on into how foolish she was for doing that horridness to herself. But it finished with a squeezing hug and many tears as she left her darling little daughter in the hands of her newest love interest, with all sureness that she gave him a large lecture on her little girl and carefulness. She also, on the act of their relationship, scolded that she didn't much have room right then for a new child in the Weasley line. Draco blushed greatly and bent his head, nodded and murmuring a quiet, "Yes, ma'am." But all in all, things were going fine.

" 'Abstinence is the answer,' " she read in a breathy giggle, holding a small red pamphlet with a condom on the front. He looked up and grinned. "Didn't work well for you, I'd say?"

He laughed. "A friend of mine gave it to me back in 3rd year, but I was only 13. Didn't work well for me after that, I suppose. But I guess being talented in that type of thing might get me far in life," he winked. She giggled and blushed, tossing the booklet at him. He caught it and laughed, grabbing her hand and pulling her to him.

"What would you say, love? Do you think I'm talented in that area?"

She laughed and pinched his butt hard.

"Oh, yeah. Very talented. But you could always use some practice," she said, waggling her eyebrows suggestively, and emphasizing 'practice' by grinding hard against him.

He grunted and bit her neck softly, pressing his lips against the spot. He heard her sharp intake of breath and groaned, trailing kisses up her jaw line, across her face and to her lips where he let them linger, for just a second. A burning sensation filled her lips and she opened her eyes, meeting those open, clear pools of silver-blue.

"I ask myself, all the time, how I could've fallen in love with you," she said, shaking her head. "I never could find an answer."

"Ouch. My bleeding heart. You know, I was just thinking that same thing. Blaise said it's 'cause I compliment you."

She snorted.

"What? You've never complimented me. Ever."

He grinned against her neck.

"Wouldn't help you now, would it? I'm already in love with you."

"Better late than never," she smirked. He growled.

"Feisty one, you are. What kind of un-complimentary compliments would you like to hear?"

She arched her back, slightly, when he breathed in her ear, blowing hard.

"Doesn't matter, I guess. Flattery is an accessory, though," she grinned.

He laughed and leaned away from her, eyes twinkling. It was the side of him few people ever saw. And she loved it, just because he hated her. And that was ok, for once.

"I'll think on it, Vixen. You better get to class. Might have to turn you in to Snape, I would."

She glanced at the clock on the wall and gave a reluctant look into his eyes. He nodded calmly and brushed red curls from her brown almond eyes.

"I'll be here when you get back, I promise."

She snickered and drew her cloak around her, snuggling inside his arms before she set out into the cool, silent hallways. He watched her wander, hips swinging and steps bouncing, and plotted in his head.

* * *

Dinner.

It was a clichéd necessity for himself, but always worthwhile. Especially worthwhile when you've got a redheaded woman on your hands, and your hands that you never wanted to let go of, even if it meant risking your reputation for her. After all, graduation would be soon. And as far as school reputations and old friends went, no one would bug him afterwards. He had his life stretched out in front of him, and as far as he cared, it had Ginny in every picture. 

The cold air slipped through the cracked windows. Fire licked at the bricks of the fireplace, and cast spooky shadows on the carpeted floor. Everything was cleared, besides the bed, which was made up neat and tidy in the other small room behind the setup, and a table was set before the fire and candles lit between the two china plates. Food was on its way; friendly house elves had been grateful enough not to be beaten to bring fresh entrees from the hidden kitchen. But on the bed, in a tiny pyramid of small boxes, were her Christmas 'presents'. Small velvet jewelry cases were stacked neatly in the center, in red and green wrapping paper. But he knew that at the very center was the real present, only purchased the day before. In a small black box was a 24 karat gold diamond ring, with two red stones on their side of a sparkling diamond. On the inside, engraved in small but legible writing, were the words _Dearest Ginevra - I Love You Always. _The words wrapped around the inside to touch the beginning, but he didn't care. She'd better love it, though. Cost him some pretty pennies down at the jeweler's, but he figured it was worth it.

The grandfather clock in the corner chimed 10 - their meeting time. Candle light lit the room, and the deep aroma of their dinner wafted from the space in the corner that served as a makeshift kitchen. A fire was lit in the hearth as well, its licks of flames flickering across the room as well as heating the small apartment. He felt a small deal of pride well up in his chest as he looked around at his plans, but he swallowed his ego and checked the table again, adjusting the candles and the rose that rested on her plate. Forks, knives, silver spoons each winked up at him, catching his attention to polish them twice too many times. He jumped when he heard her small knuckles rapping softly on his door.

He tugged his shirt gently, pleased with his choosing of ensemble. A charcoal-black shirt was ironed and creaseless, matched with loose khaki trousers and a black belt. Shining black shoes glanced up at him and he wiggled his toes, blinking several times to get himself working and sifted licks of platinum blond hair from his storm-colored eyes. He started toward the door, checking his breath and pulling his shirt once again, swallowing and clearing his throat quietly. And then he pulled open the door, slightly startling the petite redhead that stood on the opposite side of the threshold. He cleared his throat again and took her hand, pulling her in and examining her image.

Luscious curves clung to a sleek, black, strapless dress, with long, full, sexy legs poking out from beneath the skirt and ending in catlike-black spiked heels. He grinned in arrogance and studied her face, black eyeliner and soft black eye shadow bringing out her wide brown chocolate eyes. Her long red hair was curled and held back at the sides, with long red tendrils of fire slipped out to tease her temples. Squeezing her hand he spun her around, edgy to take a glance at the rest of her. He stepped back slightly at the network of black spider webbing that held the dress tightly to her frame, and the short black skirt that ended a few inches above the backs of her knees. He swallowed again, trying to erode the block in his throat, and turned her back around to face him.

"I have to tell you something before this gets any further," he said. She gave him a listless look and nodded for him to go on, stepping closer and giving a seductive shake of her shoulders.

"And what might that be?" she purred, and rubbed a hand suggestively down his arm.

The grin he sported broadened.

"You're ugly," he said, the arrogance in his voice flooding out. She snorted and threw back her head, howling with laughter.

"Bulls eye," she sighed, stepping away to examine the room. Before she could get farther than two small paces, he spun her back around and pulled him into his arms. Running a hand through the dark red curls at the back of her head, he cupped her neck, drawing her mouth slowly to his.

"No, not really. I was just teasing. It's those damn compliments you said you wanted, I guess. I don't know how to be nice." He gave a wan smile and touched his lips to hers, softly, the hand that rested on the small of her back running up and down her spine, sending a jolt of shivers through her body. She pulled away in reluctance, already regretting the misplaced feeling of his sweet tongue sweeping her mouth.

"But you know how to be gentle," she observed. He shrugged his shoulders.

"Gentle people teach me gentle things. With a lot of persistence and patience, mind you," he added at her brief look. The last thing he wanted was to be whipped by the best person he'd ever slept with.

She laughed and brushed slender fingers down from his temple to his chin, tilting his head slightly before it returned to wrap around his neck. He pulled her in, taking sweet time, and smiled before he touched his lips to hers.

"It's so strange," she murmured. He opened his eyes slightly and looked down at her through his brilliant bright lashes, sliding his hand down her neck to her back.

"What is?" He turned her around, steering her with the hand on her back to the table set for their date. He heard her small intake of breath, saw the reflection of the room in her wide, sparkling brown eyes.

"It's beautiful," she gasped, and looked up at him. He nodded, and reached a hand up to trace her lips.

"Beautiful things for beautiful people, Ginny," he whispered, and kissed her softly, guiding her over to the table on her jelly-like legs. He scooted out the chair and sat her in it, looking down at her through clear eyes. She saw them twinkle beyond his tough exterior and knew she'd better be careful where she tread tonight.

"Dinner first," he told her. "Then we'll see what's for desert." When he winked she laughed, the bouncy sound echoing into the kitchen area where he picked up the dinner and brought it to the table. She was delighted at him, but the feeling in her stomach told her she owed him something in return.

She pushed her plate aside, and propped her elbows up on the table.

"So what's for desert?"

Nervousness twisted in his stomach. _Would she say yes? _God, he didn't know. He didn't know what he'd do if it wasn't yes. He wouldn't live without her; no, he wouldn't. Not on his life would he.

He stood up gracefully and sauntered across the table, leading her to the edge of the bed. Leaning her up against one of the bed posts he kissed her, curling his arms around her waist and pulling her to his chest.

God, she'll never find the box. There's got to be a different way.

In his head he pulled every tiny box away except the ring. Even then he hid it underneath the sheets, on her side of the bed. She'd find it, he knew.

He twisted his fingers in her hair and feasted on her neck, hands groping hungrily in a cold passion he hadn't really felt before. The pace of his kisses went from peaceful, chaste, and gentle to frenzied, ravenous and rapacious. The post beat into her back as she writhed beneath his body, gasps and meaningless things slipping out of her mouth as her eyes squeezed shut and she pulled at his shirt, calling, 'Draco, Draco,' in a quiet, constant whisper…

He pulled back the curtains roughly. He hoisted her up gently and dropped her on the bed ceremoniously, crawling on top of her with a lusty reflection of her own body in his eyes. She grinned up at him and pulled him down, already missing the feeling of his teeth scraping her neck. She'd just gotten his shirt off and he was working on her damn dress when she felt something - a lump - dig roughly into her back as he pressed her with his masculine weight into her side of the bed.

"Draco - wait - wait a second, there's something - something underneath me.." she muttered, gently pushing him off. In his dazed, passion-drunken state he didn't even realize she'd found the box, found the ring, and this was the final moment… Her fingers curled around the velvet and a wicked grin twisted her mouth as she held up her fisted hand in triumph.

"Ah ha! I've found my enemy!" she giggled, and brought her hand down to look at it. Upon sight of it her smile fell gently, and she looked up at him, who was chewing his lower lip in anxiousness, in disbelief.

"Draco - Draco, is this - is this what I think - think it is?" she stammered. Excitement flooded through her body, but so did dread at the same time. Was this some sort of joke? Did he really love her like this?

"Um-hmm, Ginny, it really is," he answered softly. With her thumb she popped open the box, the glittering gold reflected in her coffee eyes.

"Oh my God, Draco - it's - it's wonderful, I don't know what to say…"

He crawled over to her and kissed each corner of her mouth, and then her lips, while she started down in shock.

"Say 'yes', Ginny. That's all I want - all I ever wanted. _You_. All those other girls? Nothing. I saw you in my dreams, in my mind, I saw your face when I kissed anyone - it's always been you," he confessed and turned his gaze to look down at the ring. With shaky hands he pulled it out and showed her the inscription - she gasped and tears littered her eyes.

"Marry me, Ginevra," he whispered, kissing her hand as he slipped the ring onto her finger. "Maybe not now, maybe not next year, but whenever you're ready - just marry me," he said.

She watched the process in total disbelief. Beyond the stupor, she heard his words… _Marry me, Ginevra_.

"Oh my God, yes. Yes, Draco, I'll marry you. Yes, yes, yes," she cried in quiet joy. He watched her face for any signs of unsure ness and then scooped her into his arms, hugging her tightly against him as the mattress sank below them.As she brought his face up to meet her lips he murmured, "Happy Christmas, Ginny."She laughed asthey fell back on the bed, and with idle hands, pulled the curtain closed… a happy ending on a true disaster.

* * *


End file.
